Nina cracked her knuckles, staring down at Calamity, the backdrop of the dark night making her pale skin almost glow. “So are we done here?”
Alarm skittered along Poppy’s spine, making her blood go cold. They were just going to leave her? Forever? What happened to all those stories about friends for life and ride or die?
She had no one. It wasn’t like she could call her mother and say, “Hey, Ma. I need your advice. Due to a crazy-as-fuck accident, I’m now a familiar. I have magic, Ma! But I also have a man I’m supposed to partner up with. A man I guide through life forever. Can you believe I actually had to sign a paper that said I’d do this forever? So…got any advice?”
Her mother would pass out in her corned beef and cabbage. These women and this talking cat were all she had, and she wasn’t letting them go so easily.
“Done?” she squawked. “Wait. You’re all just going to leave me here as though I were some unwanted newborn you’re dropping off on the steps of a church?”
Nina snorted, jamming her hands into her hoodie. “Dramatic analogy, but yeah, if you wanna look at it like that. We got ya to the realm, didn’t we? You got your assignment. You’re not in a state of total fucked-up. There were no tears. No denial. You seem okay with your new lot in life, which, I gotta say, I admire because shit doesn’t usually go down like this. You’re a badder bitch than most. So what the fuck do you need us for?”
Poppy looked up at Nina, an overwhelming sense of fear washing over her in a swell of desperation. She gripped the vampire’s slender hand, pulling her cool digits to her chest as she blinked away those tears Nina talked about. “I don’t know!” she yelped while the unfamiliar emotion clawed at her from the inside out, but as she caught the alarmed gazes in the other women’s eyes, she quieted her tone. “I don’t know. I just do. I really just do…”
And that was true. She knew it.
But why did she know?
Surprisingly, Nina didn’t pull away. Instead, she gripped Poppy’s fingers tighter, steadying her rising panic. Nina’s next words didn’t betray her gruff demeanor, but she somehow knew the woman wouldn’t abandon her. “Fine, Chicken-shit. We’ll stay.”
“Of course we will,” Marty reassured, rubbing Poppy’s arm with her hand. “We never abandon ship no matter how steady the captain seems. Not until we’re sure you’re safe and sound.”
Wanda nodded her consent, too, planting her hands on her hips. “Ditto. So where are we, Calamity, and how do we help make this transition for Poppy smoother?”
With the swish of her tail and a wisp of confetti-like sparkle, a stack of papers the size of War and Peace appeared before crashing onto the pile of garbage with a puff of the stench of rotten sardines and stale cigarette butts.
Calamity hopped on top of it and began to pace. “Finally. Now we can really get down to business.”
“What is that?” Poppy asked, sure she’d regret it the moment the words left her big mouth.
“It’s your warlock’s life story—all neatly logged by time and date with every single life event, important or otherwise, grades, achievements, involvements, relationships, etcetera, all documented for your reading pleasure.”
Scratching her forehead, she grated a sigh. “I can’t even focus long enough to read a pamphlet on birth control, how am I supposed to read all of that?”
“In order to learn all of your warlock’s quirks, to really know what makes him tick, you need to do your research. So we’ve made things easy for you and consolidated everything into this handy tome. It’s less intimidating than it looks.”
Poppy eyed her skeptically, narrowing her gaze. “So you’re telling me you read a stack of papers like this on Nina before you became her familiar?”
“Don’t be a moron, newb. This is the half-breed we’re talking about. It was like a paragraph long. You want the CliffsNotes? Never mind. I’ll give them to you anyway. It read like this: Subject, Nina Statleon. Has big mouth. Thrives on threats and confrontation. Has really big mouth. The end.”
“Fuck you, Calamity,” Nina crowed, making Poppy snort a giggle.
“What the hell are you all doing out here?” a low, raspy voice with just the slightest hint of a Spanish accent asked.
All of the women whipped around in sync, their eyes peering into the darkness. Startled by the voice, Poppy fell into Wanda, who patted her on the back and righted her, easing the trembling of her knees.
“More to the point, who the fuck are you and why are you sticking your nose in our business?” Nina asked, approaching the stranger as though she were approaching enemy lines.
The man’s features were hidden in the shadows of the dull streetlamp, but his size was clear. Tall and well-muscled, every stitch of clothing he wore clung to his bulk like a second skin, enhancing his thick thighs and ripped arms.
The moment Nina’s stance became menacing was the moment he held up his hand and, without a word, froze her right in place. The wind that had whistled like white noise in the background suddenly stopped, as did the leaves rushing against the sidewalk in a crinkle of rustling fall goodness.
No one appeared all that surprised that Nina was instantly immobilized. So she tried to roll with her peers and behave as though a simple hand gesture freezing someone in their tracks was no big deal, but on the inside, Poppy McGuillicuddy was terrified speechless.
She’d considered lots of things while they’d waited in line at Familiar Central. Like, spells and voodoo and all manner of Bewitched. She’d tried to recall all the shows and books she’d ever seen or read dealing with witches and magic, but nothing quite compared to actually seeing it happen.
“I said, who are you?” the stranger demanded, moving around Nina’s unmoving form and closer to the group, his body language rigid and tense.
“Oh, knock it the hell off with the fancy freezing spells, ya big galoot! Stop showing off and unfreeze the pain in my ass before I turn you into the prize cow at the 4-H fair,” Calamity ordered, rising on her hind legs.
The man eyed them all, his icy stare enough to make Poppy visibly cringe, but Wanda kept her hands firmly planted on her shoulders in support and squeezed. “We’re here. We won’t let him hurt you,” she whispered, and somehow, that made everything okay—even with a freezing spell.
“Do I know you?” he asked as he moved forward, eating up the sidewalk with long, purposeful strides.
As his features become more defined, her eyes went wider. The man responsible for freezing poor Nina in place was an absolute hottie. Like, brick shithouse hot, hot, hot.
The dark turtleneck and thick down vest he wore accented his even darker features. Eyes the color of a moonless night, evenly spaced and fringed heavily with thick dark lashes, assessed them all. Prominent cheekbones with a razor’s edge and a hard, square jaw enhanced his full-ish lips and bracketed his long straight nose.
His skin was smooth and medium-toned with nary a blemish, putting his age at roughly thirty-five, if Poppy were to guess.
When he asked again, “Do I know you?” the hard edge to his tone said he’d known trouble before, and he was prepared to handle any that crossed his path.
“Ish,” Calamity responded with a calm Poppy definitely wasn’t feeling as she dropped back to her haunches and padded toward him on soft kitty feet. “Are you who I think you are?”
“Who do you think I am and why are you rooting around in my garbage?” he asked, locking gazes with Poppy.
His glare made her stand taller, even though she was only five feet and one-half inch, if you didn’t count her six-inch platforms. Why he’d chosen her out of the pack of women to shoot his hateful stares at took her by surprise. But she squared her shoulders anyway and glared right back.
She probably looked like an idiot doing it in her torn Paul Stanley leggings, afro wig, and big clunky platform boots, but whatever. Nobody intimidated Poppy McGuillicuddy. She might be tiny, but she was damn well mighty.
Calamity sniffed the air around this delicious, if no
t possibly dangerous man and made a clucking noise in the back of her throat. “Yep. I think he’s our guy, girls.”
“Ooo, lucky Poppy!” Marty chirped, patting her on the back in approval. “Nice coup, kiddo.”
Planting his hands on lean hips encased in tighter-than-tight jeans, his eyebrow rose. Just one, but it was a perfectly groomed, raven-tipped one. “Your guy?”
“Oh, stop playing coy with us, Mr. Smexy,” Calamity cooed, winding her tail around his ankle and purring a thick, sultry sound in the back of her throat. “You know why we’re here.”
His lips thinned when he crossed his arms over his burly chest. “Explain yourself.”
Calamity reached upward with her front paws, planting them on his knees and stretching as she tilted her head to look up at him. “I’m here to hand-deliver your new familiar, Sexy Pants. Make sure when the powers that be send out that survey, you remember to mention how timely I was. It counts for points toward a new travel tote. If you give me a five-star rating, it’ll push me right over the top, and that tote’ll be mine in no time flat.”
“Ahh,” he muttered, driving a wide hand through his thick, dark hair with a raspy sigh. “I should have known. You’re from Familiar Central.”
“Yep,” Calamity declared, dropping down and dancing about on all four of her dainty paws. “So show us where to go so we can get settled and then we’ll all sit down and have a nice little getting-to-know-you session. Also, if you have some tuna handy, I’d appreciate the shit out of a bowl—packed in water only, please. This has been one of the longest nights of my fekkin’ life. Do you have any idea how exhausting it is to induct a familiar? Especially a newb. Jesus and a popsicle. It’s more paperwork than leasing a damn car.”
Marty scooped up Calamity and tucked her under her arm, sticking her other hand out to the stranger. “Introductions are in order. I’m Marty Flaherty. The bully you froze on the spot—thank you for that, by the way—is Nina Statleon. Behind me is Wanda Jefferson, and the woman clinging to Wanda as though she were the last pint of Häagen-Dazs on earth is Poppy McGuillicuddy, your new familiar.”
He lifted his square chin with a dimple in it and nodded with a curt bob of his dark head. “I know who she is. Now take her and your friend here and go the hell away. I’ve already told Familiar Central I’m good. So, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, have a good night.”
And with that, he was gone.
As in, took his gorgeous self and disappeared into the ether, leaving behind only the scent of ozone and sardines.
Well, that was a fine how-do-ya-do.
Note from Dakota
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About Dakota
Dakota Cassidy is a USA Today bestselling author with over thirty books. She writes laugh-out-loud cozy mysteries, romantic comedy, grab-some-ice erotic romance, hot and sexy alpha males, paranormal shifters, contemporary kick-ass women, and more.
Dakota was invited by Bravo TV to be the Bravoholic for a week, wherein she snarked the hell out of all the Bravo shows. She received a starred review from Publishers Weekly for Talk Dirty to Me, won a Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Kiss and Hell, along with many review site recommended reads and reviewer top pick awards.
Dakota lives in the gorgeous state of Oregon with her real-life hero and her dogs, and she loves hearing from readers!
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eBooks by Dakota Cassidy
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A Lemon Layne Mystery, a Contemporary Cozy Mystery Series
1. Prawn of the Dead
2. Play That Funky Music White Koi
3. Total Eclipse of the Carp
Witchless In Seattle Mysteries, a Paranormal Cozy Mystery series
1. Witch Slapped
2. Quit Your Witchin'
3. Dewitched
4. The Old Witcheroo
5. How the Witch Stole Christmas
Wolf Mates, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. An American Werewolf In Hoboken
2. What’s New, Pussycat?
3. Gotta Have Faith
4. Moves Like Jagger
A Paris, Texas Romance, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. Witched At Birth
2. What Not to Were
3. Witch Is the New Black
4. White Witchmas
Non-Series
1. Whose Bride Is She Anyway?
2. Polanski Brothers: Home of Eternal Rest
Accidentally Paranormal, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
Interview With an Accidental—a free introductory guide to the girls of the Accidentals!
1. The Accidental Werewolf
2. Accidentally Dead
3. The Accidental Human
4. Accidentally Demonic
5. Accidentally Catty
6. Accidentally Dead, Again
7. The Accidental Genie
8. The Accidental Werewolf 2: Something About Harry
9. The Accidental Dragon
10. Accidentally Aphrodite
11. Accidentally Ever After
12. Bearly Accidental
13. How Nina Got Her Fang Back
The Hell, a Paranormal Romantic Comedy series
1. Kiss and Hell
2. My Way to Hell
The Plum Orchard, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series
1. Talk This Way
2. Talk Dirty to Me
3. Something to Talk About
4. Talking After Midnight
The Ex-Trophy Wives, a Contemporary Romantic Comedy series
1. You Dropped a Blonde On Me
2. Burning Down the Spouse
3. Waltz This Way
Fangs of Anarchy, a Paranormal Urban Fantasy series
1. Forbidden Alpha
2. Outlaw Alpha
Dakota recommends … Lila Dubois
Briar Rose
Lila Dubois
Chapter 1
The dust motes danced blue, green, and red in the glass-tinted sunlight.
Those tiny specks were all that moved in the great hall, for though the rest of the kingdom—as many of them as could fit within the towering stone walls—were in attendance, all were silent and still in a show of reverence.
Into this stillness four figures took shape, three appearing in sparkling clouds of mist, the fourth in a dark swirl of smoke. Refined, with skin that shone milk-white in the light and garments only a shade less fine than those of the king and queen, the witches stood, unaffected by the murmurings of fear and astonishment that ran through the crowd.
Three stood together, their hands clasped, garments of light colors, evoking feelings of peace and calm, lightness and joy.
Carefully laced overdresses of spider-web white floated on heavy skirts of robin’s egg blue, new leaf green, and buttercup yellow. Sleeves were lined with the same colors in darker hues and held in place by woven ribbons and strings of freshwater pearls. Hair—golden auburn, and the palest white—hung in rainfall-straight curtains, unadorned, giving the women an air of youth that hid the truth of their years.
The fourth woman was something else. She glittered with
dark, from the wild fall of jet curls to the lush body wrapped in black on black brocade with gold and red accents. Her throat and the upper swell of her breasts were bare. Rubies, gems of passion and madness, dripped from her slender wrists and ears. The pale line of her throat was bereft of these gems, drawing attention to the nakedness of her flesh.
The rolling soft fabric of her skirts fell to the floor, but when she stepped forward those who knelt could see that, like a savage, she wore no shoes, only anklets of rubies.
“Welcome, honored guests. You grace us with your beauty and refinement.” The king never looked at the dark one when he spoke. His steady, placid gaze remained on the three witches of light, and while the insult hidden in his words may have been beyond the understanding of the peasants, the king, queen, and four witches understood it well enough.
“Majesties.” They spoke as one and then, like daises bobbing in the sun, dipped in curtsies.
The dark witch moved forward, deliberately placing herself at the same level as the others. Rather than perform some insipid curtsy she dipped her head and shoulders in a subtle bow.
The king paused for a moment, his lips pressing tight as he realized she would not grovel further. “We have invited you here to celebrate with us the arrival of our long-awaited daughter and heir.”
Now the pastel witches spoke, each voice chiming on identical notes.
“We are honored at the invitation, and delight with Your Majesties at this blessed event.
“To show our fealty and thanks, we have come to offer blessings over the child.”
From the tightly wrapped bundle in the queen’s arms, a tiny whimper sounded.
“Your Majesty, may we?” The witch in yellow held out her arms for the squirming babe. With the quiet obedience that marked her life, the queen handed the babe over.
As the people watched, the tiny princess disappeared into the arms of the witch. Her sisters crowded around her, cooing inanely at the babe, who continued to fuss quietly.
When the witches stepped back, their cheeks were pink with pleasure and their eyes bright. The one in yellow now stood in the center, the babe still in her arms. To her left the titian-haired witch, a smidgen taller than her sisters, reached into a pouch at her belt.
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