"Oooooooo." She gasped in excitement and joy as her invisible hands clapped loudly. "Are you going to marry him?"
WTF? She was grinding my very last nerve. If I could just find her, I could zap her mouth shut followed by a nice stinging ass zinger.
"First of all, that is none of your business. Secondly, Shifters don't get married. They bite each other with long, sharp, pointy teeth—which by the way is barbaric. No marriage. They mate and probably bleed profusely in the fucking process," I informed her with a shudder. "They mate. For life. No outs. No sex with anyone other than the hairball who scarred you permanently with his canines. Add to the list the possibility of blowing puppies out of my woohooha and being stuck in Assjacket, West Virginia for the rest of my years. Not to mention all the shedding and clogged vacuum cleaners—not that I vacuum."
I realized I was hyperventilating, but that didn't seem to stop my mouth from working. Mac watched me warily like I was a time bomb waiting to go off. Smart man. He'd be smarter to run.
"Oh my Goddess," I shouted as I gasped for air. "Mac, you have to leave or move or find another mate. Now!"
"Zelda, it's all good," Mac replied calmly as he smoothed the wild curls that had escaped my pigtails behind my ears. "Shifters can get married if that's what you want."
"That's not what I want," I screeched. "All I want is eight orgasms and a brief cuddle. All of you freaks in Assjacket are trying to change me into a responsible person who cares. This is not what I signed up for."
"She really did a number on you," the voice whispered sadly.
"Who did a number on me?" I demanded.
"Why your mother, of course. She's a horrible woman."
"Leave my mother out of this," I huffed.
"I didn't mention your mother," Mac said.
"Not you. Her."
"Your mother's here?" he asked totally confused.
"Shit, I certainly hope not."
"You still haven't guessed my name," the disembodied voice chimed in completely ignoring my mental collapse.
"I heard that," Mac whispered as he got to his knees and sniffed the air.
"See, I'm not crazy," I said.
"Never thought you were," he said.
"Don't try to butter me up by saying nice things," I informed him. "You still have to find a new mate."
"Whatever you say, baby," he replied.
Hmmmm… that was not an answer. However, there was an irritating presence still wafting around my room somewhere that needed to be dealt with before I argued about it.
"Well, shit on a stick. I'm losing my touch. Only Zelda was supposed to hear me. Whatever, you can guess my name too," she told Mac magnanimously.
"Cock blocker?" Mac asked with a grin of recognition.
"You're such a bad boy," the voice chided happily.
Mac shook his head and laughed. Running his hands through his hair he pulled me into a hug.
"It's okay, Zelda. She won't hurt us," he told me.
"You know the cock blocker?"
"Yep."
"Who in the hell is it?" I demanded.
"It's…" he started.
"Nooooooooooooo!" she shouted. "Zelda has to guess or I'll get sucked into a gaping hole and thrown into the carnival from hell featuring twenty-seven of my least favorite former lovers.
"I am so lost I don't know what to do," I mumbled as I put my head in my hands. "That's almost as weird as Chuck's black hole with elevator music."
"Time warp," Mac corrected.
"Whatever," I replied. "It's all just weird."
The gasp of pain and sadness from the voice gave me pause. Did she know Chuck?
"Zelda, you'll have to guess, but it shouldn't be too hard," Mac explained rationally.
"Isn't he adorable," the cock blocking pain in my ass chimed in.
"Yes," I snapped. "Adorable and leaving. Mac, for the Goddess's sake you have to go home. I have to guess who the nut job is, re-evaluate my entire existence, and most likely do an exorcism on said nut job. This is something best handled alone because it could be messy and very profane."
"Not going anywhere," Mac said as he sat back on my bed and got comfortable.
What a douche canoe. If I was sure I wouldn't blow him to Kingdom Come, I smite his superior, sexy, bossy butt right out of the window. Dang it, the list just kept growing—find therapist, learn how to control the redonkulous amount of magic flowing through me, banish the spirit, get laid…
"Can I ask you questions?" I ground out to the spirit.
"Yes you can!"
"Do I know you?" I inquired, still scanning the room for movement. She might not be dangerous, but she still deserved a little ass blasting.
"Biblically, no."
"Mmkay—gross. Are you alive or dead?"
"Debatable," she answered. "I'm here, but it wasn't easy."
"Why in the hell are you here?" I snapped. "Who invited you?"
"You did, my dear child," she told me with a giggle.
"You lost me," I said as I pulled on my pigtails.
"Zelda, I received your letter. I received your letter and I came."
My heart pounded in my chest so rapidly, I was sure it was going to pop out. Was this possible? I wrote the letter on a lark. I sent it into the Universe with some magic. I was flabbergasted she actually got it. Maybe my magic wasn't as off as I thought it was.
"Aunt Hildy?" I whispered in shock, awe and fear. Not fear of her, but fear that once she got to know me she'd reject me too… just like my mother had.
Shit. First fucking thing tomorrow I would find a therapist and pay for a year in advance.
"Yes, my beautiful niece. I've come to save the day!"
I fell back on the bed right into Mac's open arms. I pressed my palms to my chest to calm my erratic heartbeat and a small hint of a smile began to pull at my lips.
My life had gone from bizarre to outright freakin' crazy. It was either take the ride or run. Running meant being alone again, but riding meant possible death or the need for more years of therapy than I could afford.
Thinkthinkthink.
I'd never been a weenie and I wouldn't start today. I was going to step up and live my life—my brand new, secretly fabulous and possibly short life.
"Welcome home, Aunt Hildy," I said softly.
"It's lovely to be back. We have a crapload to do! It's going to be so much fun! I can't wait to scare the living hell out of my brother!" she crowed with delight.
I grinned and shook my head.
Let the shit show begin.
Chapter 8
"Holy Goddess in knock-off Zac Posen," Naked Dude shouted as he burst into my bedroom panting like he'd run a marathon.
He was wearing a skintight white sleeveless workout shirt and black yoga pants that looked suspiciously like my black Lululemon yoga leggings. He was barefoot, sweaty and completely freaked out.
"Are you alright?" he demanded as he dropped to his knees and tried to catch his breath.
"Um, are those my yoga pants?" I asked as I wrinkled my nose and pondered if he'd also borrowed a thong.
"Yes, they are your yoga pants," he yelled. "I don't have any yoga pants and I wanted to fit in. I think I fill them out nicely. However, I think I should get a larger size. My left testicle seems to be lodged in my esophagus. I also think I might look better in navy blue."
"Did you run home?" I asked, wondering why he was sweating.
He was a warlock. He could have just poofed in.
"Yessssssss, I ran and it was tremendously unpleasant. I was terrified to use magic considering the amount of out of control power that's floating through the house and evident from at least five miles away," he grunted.
"Seriously?" I asked and wondered if Hildy was still in the room.
"Do you think I would run if it wasn't necessary?" Naked Dude replied wearily. "I also have a message to relay to… what the hell?" he groused as he finally took in my Little Red Riding Hood get-up and Mac's partially clad body on my bed.
"Ummmm…" I muttered trying not to laugh at the look of sheer horror on my father's very handsome face.
"Are you wearing a ten thousand dollar Chanel cape to have illicit relations with a werewolf?" he demanded.
"Holy crap," I gasped out. "This cost ten thousand dollars? Fabdudio, you are so going to end up in the pokey. And let me just tell you, the pokey sucks. I hated every minute of it. My cellmate was certifiable. She made even me look sane. Soooo, we have to discuss your shop lifting habits. I mean, I'll keep the cape since I was partially defiled in it, but this shit has got to stop."
"Oh please," Hildy snorted. "He's richer than Midas. My brother wouldn't steal a candy bar. Of course he's a complete doucheknocker, but he's not a thief."
"You're rich?" I asked, shocked.
"Who told you that?" he asked warily.
"Somebody," I replied staring him down.
"That's really neither here nor there," Fabio informed me, completely avoiding my query. "The more important matter at hand is the fact that you should be consorting with warlocks. Not Shifters. You’re above him."
"Actually I was beneath him," I shot back. "And you are a fine one to discuss morals."
"You are not supposed to do as I do," Naked Dude snapped. "You're supposed to do as I say."
"Um… Dude, you lost that right before I was born. And you're slowly losing points with each subsequent word that flies from your mouth."
Mac's amused chuckle did not help the situation. Fabio's fingers twitched and I quickly stepped in front of the hot guy on my bed. I was the only one permitted to zap his fine ass.
"Look, you might want to try some reverse psychology. I was on my way to being single again, but you're making me rethink."
"Parenting is hard," Naked Dude whined as he plopped his large frame down in a chair. "I'm not sure I'm doing this very well."
"You're doing fine," I consoled him. "You just have to realize I'm not thirteen."
"Can we screw with him?" Hildy begged.
"I don't think it's a good idea right now," I told her.
Naked Dude looked a little pathetic all mussed up and wearing women's yoga pants.
"Who are you talking to?" he barked as he looked around the room.
"Somebody," I answered cagily.
"That's it. Zelda, you're grounded. The werewolf has to leave and you will stay in your room for the rest of the evening," Fabio announced grandly.
I inhaled deep and blew the air back out slowly. I was this close to magically reducing the size of the yoga pants to extra, extra small, but it might decimate his balls. It would be wrong—even I knew it. I was going to use words not spells.
"Screw with him." I told Hildy. "He's asking for it."
"Yayayayayayay!" she squealed. "He's taking yoga to get limber because he misses licking his balls."
"That's disgusting," I said with a shudder. The visual alone activated my gag reflex.
"What's disgusting?" Fabio asked, perplexed.
"I can't believe you're doing yoga just so you can become one with your nads again."
"That's just preposterous," he stuttered not quite able to make eye contact. "I do have a message for…"
"He slept with the lights on until he was a hundred and fifty," Hildy chimed gleefully.
"You're afraid of the dark?" I giggled and watched him squirm.
"I most certainly am not," he huffed.
"He was obsessed with Dorothy Hamill and wore his hair in the Hamill Wedge for six years," she choked out through her laughter. "I have pictures."
"No freakin way." I fell back on the bed and laughed. It was so wrong and so awesome. "You truly sported a wedge cut for six years?"
Fabio froze and his eyes narrowed to slits. Green sparkles burst from his fingertips and began to fly willy nilly around the room.
"Call him a doucheknocker," Hildy said.
"I think we might have screwed with him a bit much," I said as I ducked a rather aggressive blast.
"Do it! It will be great," she insisted.
"I'm supposed to call you a doucheknocker," I mumbled.
"Where is she?" Fabio hissed as he stood and prepared to do some major damage. "Where is my gaping, cavernous, canker sore of a sister? And who in the hell invited her? She can't come back without an invitation—an invitation from an extraordinarily powerful source."
"I guess I did," I admitted, ignoring the part about the powerful source. I'd deal with that nugget later—as in never. "I sent a letter off into the cosmos. She showed up and interrupted my afternoon sex-capades."
"Well, at least the old hag is good for something," Fabio muttered as he reigned in his magic. "Show yourself, you smelly broom flyer."
"I can't, you fart nozzle," Hildy griped, now in full voice for all to hear. "I'm afraid I'll poof away if I try."
"I think you should try," Fabio said with an evil smirk. "I dare you."
"I am not falling for a dare, you testicle slurper," she informed her brother.
"Don't knock it till you try it," he shot back.
Mac and I sat silently and listened to the juvenile name-calling. It was both amusing and disconcerting. Watching two over two hundred year old siblings fighting like they were twelve had not been on my agenda for today.
"Are you guys done?" I asked nicely. "If you're not, you should finish up because I detect in-coming old lady crouch."
"Baba Yaga?" Mac asked as he sat up and pulled on the rest of his clothes.
"Yep. The one and only BabaYopaininmybutt."
"That's terribly rude, darling," Hildy chided. "If Baba hears you say that, she'll zap you bald."
"Then I propose we don't tell her," I said as I quickly made up the bed and tidied the room.
"Aren't you going to change?" Fabio demanded loudly.
"Nope, I'll just button my wildly expensive cape that my questionably rich, ball-obsessed, girly-dressed dad bought me."
"She called me Dad!" Fabio shouted joyously and high-fived the air looking for his sister.
"Oh my Goddess." I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Did you not hear the rest of the sentence?"
"Nope, just heard Dad," he informed me with a huge grin. "Music to my ears."
"He's nuts," I said as I pulled my wild red curls free from the elastics.
"Runs in the family, dear," Hildy volunteered cheerfully.
"Clearly," I mumbled. "Good to know I come by it honestly."
"I love your crazy," Mac whispered in my ear then seated himself in the armchair and waited for the show to commence.
My insides tingled and I had to hold myself back from flinging my body at him. How many guys would have stayed after what we'd just witnessed? He really did love my crazy. That was so freakin' hot.
"I heard that," Naked Dude ground out to Mac. "You're very quick with the compliments, young man."
I had to bite down on my lip to stifle my groan. Only my dysfunctional family would think being told that our crazy wasn't offensive amounted to a compliment.
"Zelda," Naked Dude reminded. "I do have to give you a message."
"Hold that thought, Dudio. We have incoming in about five seconds."
The atmosphere in the room changed dramatically. A strong breeze mixed with flecks of sliver and peach glitter blew in short, sharp gusts. The lights flickered and a large mirror ball straight out of a 1980's high school prom appeared on the ceiling. I gasped in dismay. That had better not be permanent. Baba Yaga was eternally trapped in 80's fashion mode. It was funnier to talk about than to witness. Occasionally it gave me hives. The mirror ball worked overtime and we all looked like we were in a disco tech from hell. However, my red cape did look pretty awesome under the lights.
"What a fabulous entrance!" Hildy shouted above the wind whipping violently around and destroying my room. "How I have missed my BFF!"
I held onto the headboard of my bed so I wouldn't get blown out the window and into the front yard. I rolled my eyes and sighed. Of course my nutty dead aunt was best-friend
s-forever with the certifiable, style-impaired leader of all witches.
Baba Yaga appeared in a blast of colorful smoke, choking and swatting at the idiots who had landed on top of her. Her entrance was usually far more polished than this one. Baba was in fine form on this visit. She rarely travelled without her posse of older than dirt warlocks and today was no exception. However, this time there was a distinct difference. The ten little bobble-headed bastards were chained together and on a leash. Baba Yaga gripped the end of the leash in annoyance and jerked them to attention.
Witch Glitch Page 6