Magic and Mayhem: The Witch, The Weeds, and The Were (Kindle Worlds Novella) (Spaghetti Romance Book 1)

by Jordan K. Rose

  “What the hell? Doesn’t he keep anything lying around for me to…to see? How the hell am I supposed to know what else he needs if he doesn’t leave any clue of his problem?”

  She shoved the yearbook from senior year back under the bed, though not before thumbing through it to find a picture of she and Daniel sitting together on the bleachers, her head resting on his shoulder. “What an idiot.”

  She didn’t bother to read what she’d written. There was no need. She still remembered the day they traded yearbooks for signatures and she breathlessly anticipated what he’d write.

  After all, best friends, er, spouses write fun, encouraging, loving things to each other. Right? She’d anticipated something like: Make the world yours. Best friends forever. Remember, if we haven’t found the real loves of our lives by thirty, we’re each other’s backup plan. Those Valentine’s Day nuptials weren’t for nothing!

  Maybe she hadn’t anticipated that message. Maybe she’d hoped for something else but panicked and wrote those exact words herself. Really corny. Super stupid. Totally eighteen. That was what high schoolers did. They wrote stupid shit in yearbooks that meant nothing to anyone.

  A sickening feeling churned in her belly. “I’m just starving. This wave of nausea has nothing to do with having my past bitch slap me into today.” She slammed the book shut before letting her fingers find the picture of them from prom night.

  Why let memories from a dozen years ago beat her into the ground.

  Shoving the book back under the bed did not close the memory of the night they ran away to a justice of the peace and tied the knot. It was a little knot. Maybe it was a double-knot because they weren’t simply humans getting married. They were a witch and a werewolf, and right after they were married they parked Daniel’s truck over by Hazard Pond and did it until dawn. Pretty much they’d made sure the marriage was consummated on every damn level.

  Valentine’s Day was always a very sore, rottenly miserable day for Jackie. Celebrating the anniversary of something that wasn’t real sucked. Yet, here she was a day before the anniversary of The Day of Infamy (as her mother so aptly named it twelve years ago), standing in the bedroom of the infamous Daniel Ridgeback.

  “Ugh! Why the fuck does he still have this damn book?” The minute she’d graduated, Jackie had packed hers away, never looking at it again. “He’s such a sentimental putz.”

  No closer to understanding her objective, though infinitely closer to running away again, she had to figure out what she was supposed to do, make it happen, and get the hell out of town before tomorrow. There was no damn way in hell she’d be caught dead in this town, in this house with that man.

  Otherwise she risked melting into the pot of emotional mush she was on graduation night.

  Asking him exactly what else he needed was not an option. As far as she could tell it was completely out of the question. It would only tip him off to the fact she was there to help with something, which would probably give away the fact she was sent there as a punishment, which no witch was ever supposed to let out of the bag. Besides, if he knew she was there as a punishment that would, of course, give him the upper hand. And, who didn’t want the upper hand?

  “Well, I’ll just get it out of him during sex, if that’s what must be done. Sometimes a girl has to use every tactic in the toolbox. Sex is a perfectly lethal weapon. Goddess knows it just about killed me.”

  Chapter Five

  Finding her way in the much-bigger-than-she’d-noticed-on-the-way-in house was made easier by the scent of bacon coming from the kitchen. Bacon, French toast with maple syrup she knew came from the sugar shack out back, and eggs mingled with the scent of coffee.

  Jackie inhaled a deep and happy, though slightly confused breath. Was that fresh brewed coffee or freshly showered Daniel she smelled? No matter, either one would be delicious, though one would clearly be a lot more trouble than the other.

  She followed her nose from the bedroom, down a hall past four more bedrooms, across a balcony, down a flight of spiraling stairs, into the living room where the biggest sectional couch she’d ever seen faced a ginormous two-sided stone fireplace hosting a roaring fire, past the crystal clear sliding glass doors leading outside, where interestingly, it appeared the backyard might be more alive than any tropical rain forest before finally entering the kitchen.

  “It was quite a hike getting here from the bedroom. A girl could really work up an appetite on the journey.” Jackie plopped onto a stool on the opposite side of the center island, her mouth watering as a familiarly annoying little voice in the back of her head shouted, “He remembers you love breakfast for every meal.”

  Ignoring the voice, Jackie noticed a rolling wave of greenery rush up a window on the side of the house and tried not to flinch.

  “Coffee’s there.” Daniel pointed to the full pot on the counter. “Breakfast is…are you all right?”

  The little voice went on to remind her of the time he used waffles topped with fresh strawberries and a scoop of ice cream to trick her into staying overnight in the apartment he’d rented after they’d secretly tied the knot. The resulting argument with her parents upon her arrival home concluded in the worst case of indigestion she’d ever had.

  Jackie stopped shaking her head and nodded. “Yeah. Just a little, nothing. I’m fine.” She’d been ignoring that little voice for many, many years. Twelve to be exact, though, in all honesty she hadn’t exactly listened to it before then either.

  “Okay. Well, breakfast is here.” He slid a plate full of food in front of her. “Refills are here.” He opened three covered dishes to reveal several more pieces of French toast, a dozen more eggs, and a guestimated pound of bacon. “I have to go. Be back after dark. We can pick up from there.” He winked. “Assuming you stay.”

  Jackie’s hips wiggled and she slipped off the seat, quickly bouncing back up from the floor. “I meant to do that.”

  Daniel nodded and turned toward the door.

  “Hey? Where are you going?” Jackie followed, carrying her plate. “Don’t you want breakfast?”

  “Already ate.” Daniel didn’t turn, nor did he stop. He grabbed his coat and kept walking straight through a flagstone foyer with vaulted ceiling toward a door wide enough to drive an Amtrak train through.

  “But. But, I’m supposed to…you’re…we…wait! I’m not ready.” Jackie felt the confusion. Really she’d been referring to it as The Confusion for as long as it had been happening, which was roughly twelve years. The last decade plus two had pretty much been a shit storm of confusion, embarrassment, and celibacy. But, hey, sometimes you had a decade or two of crap.

  Food. She needed to eat, then she’d be able to control herself and it. She took a few bites of egg, then shoved an entire piece of French toast in her mouth, followed by six slices of perfectly cooked bacon, not too crispy, not raw. Then she moaned in ecstasy, startling herself.

  Of course at this point Daniel faced her, shaking his head because who can watch a grown woman shovel food into her mouth like she hadn’t eaten in a month without feeling some amount of disgust?

  “It’s really good.” She pointed with her fork. “Sure you don’t want more?”

  “Go eat. I’ll be back tonight. We can talk when I return.” Daniel’s eyes tracked to Jackie’s mouth, and she’d have thought he wanted to kiss her but for the sticky drip she felt pooling in a corner.

  Sticking her tongue out she licked the drippy glob away.

  Daniel turned, pulled the door open and stepped into a wall of welcoming weeds. “What the fuck?”

  Tiny tendrils curled around him.

  He stepped back, shoving against the massive green monster and taking several little curly-cues with him. An imprint of most of his body remained for only a second in the green wall blocking his exit before being erased by another sprouting of leaves and vines. “Damn.” Looking down at the leaves scattered from the threshold to where he stood, he swiped his hands up and down his clothes, adding several more l
eaves to the floor.

  “But where are you going?”

  The scowl on Daniel’s face did nothing to diminish his sex appeal. In fact, if Jackie had to bet on it, she’d have bet the house the look of irritation made him hotter than hell. She imagined werewolf women scenting him and descending on the house like a pack of horny bitches waiting to mate.

  The idea made her want to jerk him back inside and bolt the door shut. Instead she ate the rest of her breakfast and tried not to stare at Daniel, who now towered over her like a pissed off giant.

  “Yes?” she asked, staring at a clump of white clover flowers on his chest indicating the height of the weed bank.

  “Why is my yard growing over my house?”

  “Well, I don’t know.”

  “A few hours ago you arrived and the forest went from the brown, barren fire hazard it’s been for the last twelve years to a lush, overgrown, tropical forest. Now, it’s taking over the house. You don’t think you might have something to do with this?” Heat radiated off his body, which was actually perfect because it was damn freezing in the open doorway.

  Jackie wasn’t sure if she should scoot closer or step backward. The fact was she didn’t want to freeze and didn’t want him to leave. If she stepped back, he might force his way through the weeds, which now included dandelions, bitter nightshade, and queen Anne’s lace, slam the door and go. If she stepped forward, he might drag her out into the yard to try to stop the botany bonanza. Neither idea held any appeal.

  She stood perfectly still, except for her hand, which kept filling the fork and bringing it to her mouth, and then, of course, her mouth kept chewing. A girl had to eat.

  “Jackie!”

  “What? I can’t control the damn yard. I’m not a magician.” She couldn’t look at him. She knew she’d see that look in his eyes that said he expected more…better…an answer that made sense.

  Magician, witch, to some they might be one and the same. In every witch’s mind, they were completely different. Magic was magic. Witches were witches. Magicians were hacks who tried to play with magic.

  Jackie was a witch who tried never to touch the stuff.

  “Jackie.” In an interestingly impressive way Daniel spoke her name without moving his lips out of the sneer position. His jaw remained clenched, muscles tightened, teeth clamped shut. Certainly this time her name did not sound nearly as appealing as when he said it a few hours back while holding her and leaning in for a kiss.

  “What is going on?” He closed the few feet between them and loomed above her like a very angry, very large, very powerful wolf. “Answers. I want answers.”

  He damn sure wasn’t getting any of those things no matter how stern the expression on his face. Besides, she was the one who needed answers. If he left for a few hours, she’d be able to scour the house for clues.

  “You’re right. We can talk when you get back. I can do something.” She backed into the house. “Oh, I know. I’ll just eat all that food.”

  Attempting to shoo him to the door and out before pushing it shut was futile. Not only did the door weigh a ton, but it was also held open by a very angry werewolf who apparently had no desire to be shoved into a weed bank.

  “Exactly, why are you here?” Daniel kept pace with each step backward Jackie took, following her into the house. “You clearly haven’t come home to profess your love and resume our marriage. So what is it you want?” His movements would have more properly been described as a charge. He slammed the door and came at Jackie almost faster than she could escape.

  Thank the Goddess for teleporting.

  Chapter Six

  In spite of being chased around the kitchen island by the hottest man she knew at a pace that would definitely allow them to qualify for the Olympic Speed Racing Team, Jackie managed to snatch a piece of bacon on every lap until the entire tray was empty. Eating the eggs and French toast was a lot harder, and one gooey broken yolk splatting on Daniel’s jeans put an end to the game.

  “That’s it!” he bellowed, and may the Goddess zap anyone else’s ass, he leapt over the island and tackled Jackie, sending them both tumbling across the floor to land against the couch.

  “Hey!” she squawked.

  “I want answers, Jackie.” Sitting up, Daniel straddled her body, his muscular thighs holding her ribs firmly beneath him, big, strong hands pinning her wrists above her head.

  “Wait. Um. Bippety, boppety—”

  Daniel’s hand clamped over her mouth. “Don’t you dare.” His perfectly mismatched eyes stared down at her. “You’re not running. Not this time.”

  The scent of roasted coffee and feral wilderness swirled. A hint of chocolate hit the back of Jackie’s throat when she inhaled. Without warning her hips wiggled.

  “Mammit,” she muttered against his palm. “Mmumm on. Mmet gooo.”

  It was bad enough having him in the same room as her, but if he touched her, she stood no chance of controlling herself, or at least not her hips.

  “I’ll remove my hand if you swear on your mother’s broomstick not to leave.”

  Jackie’s eyes widened.

  Swear on her mother’s broomstick? She hadn’t done that in…she couldn’t rightly remember when. Okay, that was a lie. She remembered the exact moment she did it.

  Twelve years, seven months, four days and six hours ago was when she swore on Antonella Maria Cinzia Louisa Sopressata Tortellani’s broomstick that she would never love again.

  “Or do you not remember what it means to make that promise?” Daniel leaned a bit closer, and for a few seconds Jackie couldn’t understand a word of what he asked. All she could think about was running her tongue the length of his neck to see if his skin really would taste like chocolate-flavored coffee. Or would he be coffee-flavored chocolate?

  “I didn’t think so.” He sat back, his ass touching the tops of her thighs, which made her hips wiggle.

  At this rate she was sure to have a rug burn on her tailbone.

  Jackie squinted and wrinkled her nose. “My meemember.”

  Swearing on her mother’s broomstick equated to a human kid swearing on her mother’s soul. Of course, Jackie’s mother wasn’t dead so it really pissed her off to hear Jackie swear on her soul not to do something or even worse, to do something. So, swearing on the broomstick had become the next highest promise.

  “Really? Willing to make that pact?” His right eyebrow rose just a smidge. His eyes darkened to that smoky look he always gave her when he wanted something only she could give.

  Jackie would have been a liar to say she didn’t love seeing that look, but she’d have also been a liar to say she didn’t hate it, too. This damn man held more power in his eyeballs than most men held in their entire bodies.

  With hips wiggling in a jack rabbit-y rhythm she nodded. “My smare mon my mumther’s mroomstick. Mow mease get moff me.”

  He smiled and gave a slight shake of his head. “Said I’d remove my hand. Didn’t say I’d get off.”

  Removing his hand from her mouth to rest on his thigh did very little to help Jackie control her hips, a fact that was annoying more than anything.

  In fact, having him straddling her thighs, one hand coolly resting on his leg while the other arm stretched to keep both wrists pinned above her head made it nearly impossible to think of anything other than how damn sexy he was.

  With any other man this scenario would probably, er, could probably, well, maybe…in her fantasies this scenario would play out perfectly. But with Daniel (in spite of the earlier hot, sexy, and needed-more-than-air sex) this situation was not going to end well.

  Encounters with Daniel never did.

  Somehow, someone always managed to screw it up.

  He watched her hips, and a smirk appeared on his lips. “I always liked this.”

  “Yeah, well, what guy doesn’t?” Jackie squeezed her ass as tight as she could, hoping to somehow force her hips to cease.

  A rumble grew low in Daniel’s chest. “What guy? What guy ha
s seen this?” His free hand moved to her waist, then to her hip. “Some guy has made this happen? What guy? Who is he? I’ll kill him.”

  “Really? Seriously? You think there’s been another guy? You have got to be kidding me.” Jackie huffed. Some things never changed.

  The smile returned to his face.

  “I’m not like you.” Jackie glared. “Dating other guys? Huh. As if that’s an option. You’re the one dating other guys.”

  The smile faded. “What?”

  “Wait. That’s not what I meant. You’re the one dating other women. Not that I care. You can date whomever you choose. Girls, guys. Whatever. That’s your business. Not mine.”

  She didn’t look at his eyes. There was no sense in doing it. She didn’t need to see him confirm the horrible fear that haunted Jackie’s mind. Hearing that he’d slept with hundreds of women in the past twelve years would only serve to humiliate her more.

  “And I can slee…” She swallowed. “If I wanted to, I could do dates with dudes.”

  Jackie snarled at her lame comeback. Lying had never been something she was good at. Oh, she’d be a liar to say she didn’t try it on occasion. What was a little white lie in the grand scheme of things?

  For Jackie it was impossible. She simply couldn’t keep track of a lie and keep control of her magic. That was way too much to manage.

  “Why did you run?”

  Thank the Goddess he wanted to avoid the truth about his dating exploits, too. Hearing him confirm his understandable infidelity would kill her.

  “Because you looked pissed. You know, it’s only a bit of greenery. Wait a few damn minutes. It will die down and everything will be the same as it was.” She shook her head.

  Daniel’s fingers caught her chin, drawing it up to bring her gaze back to his. “Cut the games. I’m not talking about the damn Amazon jungle or the fucking drought that’s plagued my land since graduation.”

  “Oh.” Bright lime-green magic swirled around them.

  “Twelve years I’ve waited. Twelve years I searched. I almost found you several times, but you were just a bit quicker than me. Twelve years I’ve lived in limbo—confused. Why did you run?”