Sex and the Psychic Witch

by Annette Blair

  “So you won’t slip again,” Harmony said.

  “No, I won’t. Not in this lifetime. I don’t make the same mistake twice. I’m the kind who gets married once in a blue moon, so it’ll never happen again. I won’t let my emotions rule me . . . but my sexual

  appetite, that’s another story. You understand where I’m coming from, right?”

  “In every respect, and who can blame you?”

  “I blame myself for Regina’s sorry life, and, in some obscure way, for letting you down. Still friends?”

  She cuffed him. “Sure.”

  He caught her gaze. “Can we go to bed now?”

  “With a brilliant and impressionable two-year-old in the house? Not together. Not anymore.”

  King felt both a sense of pride and loss. He released his breath. “Probably best.”

  Harmony toyed with his earlobe. “Did you say there was a parlor car in the train shed?”

  King sighed. “Let’s get some sleep.”

  She patted his chest. “Tomorrow, the parlor car.”

  “We forgot the bananas,” he said.

  She made swirls in the fabric of his shirt. “Think we should go back for them? That was some hot tub.”

  “I was thinking of a private elevator to get down there. Nobody would know it’s there but us.”

  She fanned herself. “I’m getting hot just thinking about it.”

  “That’s my sexpot.”

  “Yours? Am I?”

  “Until the castle is restored. You keep the wind quiet, remember? I’m worried the wind’ll frighten Jake. I keep imagining him in the toy room.”

  Harmony shuddered. “You finally believe she’s dangerous?”

  “I have marginal proof. A bayonet wound in my ass that’s throbbing without the padded bandage I lost in the hot spring, and blue toes from a bruising chandelier. Yeah, she could be dangerous.”

  “We didn’t get a chance to finish our discussion,” Harmony said. “We were rescued too soon. But have no fear, I’m hatching a plan to . . .” She looked around as if the walls, or ghosts, had ears. “My plan is to

  . . . make the wind happy,” she whispered.

  “Sounds as witchy as you are.”

  “You got that right.”

  “You’re trying to scare me, again.”

  “You think that’s scary? Consider this: We shared something of ourselves with each other today—besides sex—and we learned that neither of us felt wanted as children. Reggie spent the last three years feeling unwanted.”

  “I damned well want her.”

  “That’s beside the point, and damned if you being a good dad isn’t a turn-on, but I’m trying to paint you a picture here. As the unexpected child of a . . . child, Jake must have started life unwanted, if only for a few panicky days or months. You see where I’m going with this?”

  “Uh, no, sorry. I was, er, reading your breasts again, and I got distracted. Playtime Is Never Over. Is that a hint?”

  “I didn’t want to scar your daughter and grandson.”

  “Thanks. What does Jake’s shirt say?”

  “I Brake for Unicorns. I got it in honor of my sister Vickie. Long story, very romantic, but the shirt’s a commentary on how she found her Scot. Can we get back to the subject at hand?”

  “Which is?” King kissed her head. “You smell of peppermint again.”

  “So does your grandson. We took a shower together.”

  “Lucky son of a . . . Paxton.”

  “Focus, King. I know you short-circuited today, but try, please. The connection is being unwanted

  —you, me, Reggie, Jake—we all have that in common, and for some karmic reason, we’re together in an unwanted castle.”

  “I never said I didn’t want the castle. I just don’t want the headaches that come with it, the wind included.”

  “So you do want the castle?”

  “In a way. My ex wants it, too, but that doesn’t mean she’s getting it. You know, my ex reminds me of Gussie in a lot of ways: controlling, self-centered, mean-spirited. The problem, as I see it, is that Regina

  considers the castle her home, at the end of the blooming rainbow, her dream come true.”

  “Another reason you shouldn’t sell. You have a family, King. Exactly what you wanted. Start having meals in the kitchen. Redo a family wing. Jake needs structure. Routine. It wouldn’t hurt your daughter any, either.”

  “Now wait a minute.”

  “Fatherhood’s a tough job, if you do it right. Are you ready to tell Reggie that her home’s up for grabs, that after a year of trekking across the country with a baby in tow, she isn’t home?”

  “You really piss me off, Cartwright.”

  “I think we’ve established that. But I turn you on, too.” Harmony ran her sensuous fingers through his hair as she nudged his head down to hers, until their mouths nearly touched, anticipation running to all his ready parts.

  “Playtime is never over,” she whispered.

  “Grampa, I can’t sleep.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  HARMONY got off King’s lap and put Jake there. “His little feet are cold,” she said. “I’ll get some socks.”

  When she got back, she put her socks on the boy and cuffed them at his knees, then she covered him with a blanket. “Your grampa will take good care of you.” She kissed both heads. “Night night, you two.”

  Harmony leaned on the wall by the sitting room door to eavesdrop on Brass Ass Paxton, the most unlikely grandfather in the world.

  “Sing me a song, Grampa,” Jake said with a sleepy voice, and King stumbled his way into an amazing rendition of “Puff, the Magic Dragon.”

  A raging case of the warm fuzzies overcame her as she made her way to bed, and she realized that several new motives had been added to her psychic mandate. She definitely needed to send Gussie on her peaceful way. Now more than ever, she needed to encourage King to keep the castle, which would help him keep his family. Never mind that she wanted to belong to that family.

  But how was she supposed to do all that? What else did she have to accomplish here? There was more, she knew, and where did the ring fit in? Unless the ring had already fulfilled its purpose by getting her in the door. King said it made him see her in a new light. Harmony got into bed, and Regina sat up and called Jake.

  “He’s okay, Reggie. Your father’s singing him to sleep in the next room. They need some one-on-one time. They’re enjoying it.” Harmony figured that only selflessness would make a girl as responsible Reggie relax, and sure enough, she went back to sleep.

  Overwhelmed by her known and unknown goals, Harmony guessed it was time to call for help.

  Telepathically, she called her sisters.

  “Now, sisters mine, it’s time to make our

  magick shine.

  Come into the search, I’m in the lurch.

  The power of three is all that I see.

  Making a home, never to roam,

  A place of peace, shelter, and love.

  Keeping it, saving it, setting it free.

  Come to my aid, oh power of three.

  Harm it none; this is my will; so mote it be.”

  Harmony woke to a cheerful, “Good morning, Tiger,” but King wasn’t talking to her. He was trying to keep his grandson from stepping on her face in his rush to get to his grandfather.

  “Get up, Sunshine,” he said looking down at her. “Breakfast in the kitchen in half an hour. Regina’s already showered and helping Gilda cook.”

  “Reggie,” Harmony said. “She wants you to call her Reggie.”

  “Right. I gave her another of your shirts and shorts. She fell in love with Will Work for Shoes.”

  “Hey, your daughter’s got good taste. That’s one of my faves.”

  King rolled his eyes. “Do you have one for Sleepy here? Something that won’t haunt him in his teenage years?”

  Harmony went to her dra
wer and pulled out her Boys R Us shirt. “How’s this?” They pulled it over Jake’s head as the boy stood on her bed. “Perfect, hey? I have red socks to go with it. Give me those cute toes,” she coaxed as she put her socks on him. She nudged King. “When are you gonna get them some clothes?”

  King caught Jake in his arms. “I got their sizes from Regina last night. Aiden and Morgan hadn’t left.

  They’re shopping on the way here.”

  “Do you have any idea how much a kid this size needs?”

  “I need Mama,” Jake said.

  “No putting one over on you, my boy. Let’s go find Mama, then.”

  “Hey,” Harmony called. “I missed my morning snuggle.”

  King stopped. “I thought about that when I woke up.”

  “Hard to ignore, was it?”

  “After yesterday? Do you doubt it?”

  When Harmony sat down to breakfast, she had a feeling of déjà vu, as if she’d done it a hundred times, but that was wishful—not psychic—thinking.

  Reggie hooted when she saw Harmony’s shirt. “Will Work for Vintage Clothes! They’re the best. I love vintage.”

  “Then you’re in the right place.” Harmony turned to King. “Can she help me search?”

  “Sure, but you have to let her keep whatever she wants.”

  “That’s fair, though I’m thinking she’ll want vintage 1900s not 1800s.”

  Reggie looked from one to the other. “What are you talking about?”

  Harmony accepted a plate of ham and eggs from Gilda. “I’m the buyer for my family’s vintage clothing shop, here harvesting vintage clothes. Your dad says you get first choice. I’ve found some ancient stuff.”

  “Yuck. No, I want old stuff from when you were young, Dad.”

  “Ouch!” he said, throwing his napkin in his plate.

  Tears filled Reggie’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

  “Cupcake,” he said squeezing her shoulder. “I was kidding. If you did upset me, I’d still love you. You’d still have a home with me.”

  Reggie looked up at him. “Really?”

  “That wasn’t how it worked in your world, was it Regina?” he asked.

  “Okay, Dad, you love me no matter what, so here’s the litmus test. My name is Reggie. I hate the name Regina. Please call me Reggie.”

  “Done.” He kissed her, bent to kiss Harmony, realized his mistake, and swept awkwardly by her to kiss Jake. “I’m seeing my lawyer. Be back later.”

  “Is he the most reasonable man on earth or what?”

  “What!” Gilda and Harmony said together.

  Harmony laughed. “He’s the most unreasonable .”

  Gilda laughed. “You got that right.”

  “Come on, Reggie.” Harmony washed Jake’s face. “Let’s go find some seventies vintage.”

  Harmony took Reggie to a newer wing. “I think the closet in this room might have what you’re looking for. It was decorated around the time your father was born here.”

  “Daddy was born here? Cool. Now I love it even more.”

  Harmony could practically feel the winds of change. “He’ll be real happy to hear that.”

  Twin beds wore flowered orange, yellow, and lime coverlets. A white walk-in closet took up one wall,

  clothes racks sharing space with drawers and shelves. They found everything their retro hearts could desire. Punk and flower child outfits, micros, minis, and maxis, bell bottoms, caftans, jumpsuits, and pantsuits, some in psychedelic colors.

  Open shelves above the clothes held shoes of every style, height, and color. Seeing them, Reggie did a retro disco happy dance that made Harmony and Jake laugh. She grabbed the ladder.

  “Wait!” Harmony said. “Let’s make sure it’s safe first.”

  Reggie backed away as if she’d been slapped.

  “Regg. I know you became a woman in the ninth grade, but you missed some life lessons. I didn’t want you to get hurt. You didn’t do anything wrong. If you did, your dad might dislike what you did, but he’d never dislike you.”

  “Thanks,” Reggie said, lunging in for a hug but pulling back.

  “Oh come here,” Harmony said. “I want the hug.” It was a strong hug. Warm. Friendly. “I’ll check the ladder, then you can go up.”

  Harmony moved the ladder along its rail, and hung from every rung. “Okay, go for it.”

  Reggie climbed to the top and started pulling out shoes.

  Harmony went to play with Jake on the floor. When a chill hit the room, she threw a blanket around Jake. When she turned to Reggie, the ladder was trembling.

  It started tipping away from the wall, and Reggie dropped a pair of shoes so she could hold on. “Push it forward with your body,” Harmony shouted.

  If the ladder kept falling away from the wall, Reggie was gonna hit the floor and break her back.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  HARMONY got behind a twin bed and pushed it forward with every bit of strength she had in her.

  Reggie landed on it and bounced, as did the ladder . . . in Jake’s direction.

  Harmony and Reggie screamed and lunged for him, but the ladder veered away from Jake, as if something had deflected it and sent it in another direction.

  Harmony snatched Jake up and turned her back on the ladder to protect him. It crashed into a full-length mirror.

  Still shaking, Reggie cried as she took her son. “A broken mirror,” she said. “Seven years’ bad luck,”

  “I didn’t break it, Mama.”

  “We know, Scrumpling.” Harmony wiped her own tears. “And no bad luck. That’s an old wives’ tale.

  We needed good luck, and we got it.” They sat on the bed together to catch their breaths.

  Gussie, Gussie, Gussie, Harmony thought. You hate the daughter as much as the father, but you protect the grandson. Why?

  “Destiny and Storm,” she called telepathically. “Now. It’s time now! Where the hell are you?”

  “Hot and smokin’ witch patrol reporting for duty,” Storm said, as they walked in.

  “Thank God,” Harmony said. “This is getting scary.”

  “Very scary,” Reggie said.

  “Reggie, these are my sisters. We’re triplets.”

  “No freaking kidding.”

  “Storm and Destiny, meet Reggie, King Paxton’s daughter, and this is her son, Jake.”

  Caramello flew into Destiny’s arms, and Warlock hopped on Storm’s shoulder and pawed at her hair until he tossed her wig to the floor.

  Jake doubled over giggling.

  Storm huffed, and with a flick of a hand, poofed her purple spiked hair. She picked up her cat and looked him in the eye. “Warlock, I know you like Mummy the way she is, but we have a job to do, and I have to look like Harmony, so lay off the wig !”

  Jake’s giggles became contagious.

  “Jake,” Storm said, “did you cry on the boat on your way here?”

  “Yes,” Reggie said. “He did. He’d never been in a boat before. How did you know?”

  “I get a sense when kids are in distress. It’s a psychic thing.” She smoothed the boy’s hair. “I’m glad you’re okay now.”

  Tigerstar jumped on the bed, and she rubbed the top of her head on Jake’s arm, then Regina’s hip. Jake petted her, and Star purred and climbed on his lap to curl up. “She likes me!”

  “She sure does,” Harmony said, while Storm put her wig back on.

  Reggie examined their faces. “Don’t think I’m gonna remember which of you is which. The only way I can tell you’re Harmony is because you’re wearing different clothes.”

  “Which I need to fix.” Harmony took off her shirt and replaced it with the orange and black one her sisters brought. “Hold on to Jake, Reggie, not for his protection, but for yours. We have to we see what we can do about the g-h-o-s-t.”

  Reggie laughed.

  “No joke. Didn’t you feel as if something pulled
that ladder back?”

  “Well yes, but—”

  Harmony slipped into a pair of black shorts and shoes like her sisters. “Did you not see the ladder veer away from your son?”

  “Very weird, I agree, but—”

  “I believe you’re safe as long as you’ve got Jake in your arms. When you get to the dorm, take an amethyst crystal from my top drawer and put it in your pocket. That’ll help deflect her negativity.”

  “What you’re saying isn’t possible.”

  “It’s as possible as a teen dragging a one-year-old across the country to find a father she’s never met. A lot of people wouldn’t believe your story, either.”

  Reggie tilted her head. “You’re right. I defied the odds.”

  “And raised Baby Einstein while you were at it. So listen, weirder things have happened. It gets cold when the g-h-o-s-t shows. Do you remember getting cold?”

  “Yes. I was freezing all of a sudden.”

  “Bingo. She’s your ancestor, by the way.”

  “Wonderful, but on my mother’s side, right?”

  “No. Her problem is with you and your father. “We need the power of three as one to handle this, and that’ll take all our concentration. We’ll get our best shot without distractions; they break our power of concentration. If we’re weak, the g-h-o-s-t is strong. Trust me on this. Don’t tell anybody you saw triple.

  We have some serious psychic w-i-t-c-h peacemaking to do, so if anybody sees us, any one of us, we’re all me, no questions asked. The less explaining, the more energy we conserve.”

  “Who’s the w-i-t-c-h?” Reggie asked. “You or the g-h-o-s-t?”

  “All of us,” the three of them said.

  Reggie shook her head. “Does my father know?”

  “He doesn’t know what my sisters look like or that they’re here. Keep our secret for a few hours, and give us a chance to work our m-a-g-i-c-k. We’ll come out of the broom closet before the day’s over.”

  “I can spell, you know,” Jake declared, arms crossed. “J-a-k-e.” He nodded, annoyed that he couldn’t understand them.