Repossessed

by Shawntelle Madison

  “You could say that.” Warlocks and wizards dealt with magic, but in different forms. Warlocks, like himself, had the ability to play with dark and light magic, while wizards were restricted to light magic. Not that this problem didn’t stop wizards from using magically imbued shit to perform dark magic.

  In some areas, warlocks and wizards didn’t get along very well. He remembered his father telling him that during riots, like the one in L.A., warlocks and wizards often took advantage of the chaos to make war against each other. Dad had been visiting family there during the time. His old man had said, “I’d just stand there and let ‘em fight. Most of our kind don’t have a spit’s worth of common sense, I tell ya.” Based on Dad’s eloquent words, Rob just saw the fighting as an excuse for men to act like idiots and beat the shit out of each other.

  “Do you have any wizards in your family?” she asked. “I have a few extended relatives sprinkled here and there. They don’t attend family functions all that often.”

  “I grew up in house with both warlocks and wizards.” He sighed. “Over the years, I’ve seen relatives go rabid over differences in ideals and a bunch of other bullshit most folks would deem trivial. Who cares about the path you follow or what kind of wand you use?” She nodded while he spoke. “I don’t have time or the patience to support one side over the other. I’m trained as a warlock and that is all that matters.”

  The ride on the F and A train took around an hour. They were alone for most of time, with a few people entering and leaving the trains. For the first half, he didn’t have much to say to her. She glanced at him a few times, making him wonder what thoughts swirled around that pretty head of hers.

  Harabeuji was thankfully silent the whole time.

  “Are your aunt and uncle okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, they’re fine. My aunt still asks about you.”

  A light blush rose in her cheeks as she smiled. “Did you finish the garden for her?”

  He chuckled, remembering the way she looked him over after he entered the house. “Yeah, she’s got rows of squash for days.”

  “Hopefully with less pots of lovage.”

  He laughed. “She still has a pot or two.”

  The noise from the train was the only sound between them. Rob gazed at her profile, taking in the curve of her neck to the soft angles in her face. Her glossy lips parted, reminding him of their heated encounter in the closet. A hunger hit to touch her again. A hunger that hadn’t disappeared after four days. He didn’t stop his hand when it reached for hers. He traced a circle on the soft skin of her wrist.

  She swallowed visibly and avoided his eyes.

  “I can see you recovered,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, a few days of drinking Benadryl is the best cure.”

  He’d never admit it to her, but he wanted to kiss her. A real kiss this time. For the past few days, he thought over and over again of a situation like this where they’d be together again. And none of them involved a closet.

  The tension in his body increased. He itched, no more precisely, he yearned to touch her. The train jolted to a stop.

  “Are we there?” she asked.

  “Yeah.” His chance would come again soon enough.

  He wouldn’t hold back next time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dating Tip #19: Dating websites on the Internet offer the opportunity to seek out people you wouldn’t have likely met in person. But stay true to yourself and don’t post a picture of the current celebrity du jour, even if HR declined to post your photo for Employee of the Month.

  The ride with Rob had turned out nicer than she’d expected. The moment they left the subway station, such niceties ended. The neighborhood, with its revitalized homes and business, appeared small-town cozy and such, but supernaturals prowled the streets offering services she didn’t want, even if she was sloppy drunk. After walking for a few blocks, she spotted a succubus among a group of prostitutes across the street. One of the streetwalkers approached Rob asking if he wanted her to join “their little party.” Tessa kept her mouth clamped shut as Rob shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  They were propositioned four more times to do things she’d rather not remember. Most of them whistled cat calls to Rob, including a man dressed as a woman—with a better fashion sense than most women in Manhattan—who wanted to count the tattoos Rob had on his body. Her escort declined the show-and-tell opportunity.

  Eventually, once past the prostitutes and drug pushers, they reached a street where the lights of The Bubbling Cauldron could be seen. The faint sounds of music drifted across the street. An old Chevy without front wheels had the words, “Piece-O-Shit Car” on a bumper sticker. Tessa assumed she wouldn’t find the honorable elements of society inside.

  “About time we got here,” she said.

  He laughed. “I should take you here more often.”

  “The next time your amulet breaks, I think I might sit things out.”

  “Oh, we’ve only had half the fun. Are you sure you don’t want to turn back home?” He swung open the door to the bar.

  “And go back to be propositioned to a party in an alley? I think I’ll pass.”

  The roar of rock music hit her ears. The door definitely did its job of noise control.

  Inside, the bar appeared much larger. Magical folk sat in rows of tables with the bar located along the wall to her right. Two patrons snored beside their drinks as others partied around them. A few gazed in their direction with various states of emotion: lust, anger, and indifference.

  Tessa’s attire, or the fact she had too many clothes, made her stand out like tooth fairy at a dental conference. A few biker nymphs at a table pointed in her direction and cackled.

  Rob headed toward the back, searching the faces for someone.

  “Who are we looking for?” she bellowed over the music.

  “I’ll know him when I see him.”

  Rob searched for a few more minutes before he pulled her to the bar. A humongous cyclops bartender served him a beer. How did he maneuver behind the counter anyway? Somehow, he managed to serve another patron a double shot of Jack Daniels. “Hey Rob, what does the lady want?”

  “She’ll have—”

  She squeezed between Rob and a wizard who laughed it up with his friend. “I’ll have a light Corona with lime please.”

  The one-eyed giant made a disgusted face. “To each his own.” He gave her the drink and Rob tossed a few bills on the counter.

  “Your friend isn’t here?” Tessa tried to take it all in. College bars didn’t come close to the rowdiness here. The place was swarming with supernaturals.

  “He’ll arrive soon enough. Harry can’t go an hour or two without being slightly inebriated.”

  As Tessa took a sip of her beer, a large hand clamped down on her bottom. “Well, aren’t you a sweet treat?”

  She whipped around. “Hey!”

  In an instant, Rob stood. He grabbed the wizard’s wrist and twisted it behind his back.

  The air cracked with magic around them. A strange buzz tugged her ears. The offending wizard’s meaty face contorted into a snarl. The stench from the greasy gel in his hair intensified.

  “Rob!” the bartender barked. “Take it outside, or else I will.”

  Rob released the man. The wizard slinked to the front of bar cursing.

  “You all right?” Rob asked her.

  She nodded, wiping away an invisible film of disgust from her rear-end. After taking a few more sips of her drink she wondered what else was waiting to greet them. “What does Harry look like?”

  Rob tilted his head toward hers. “I’d say he’s the chunky guy behind those five pissed off wizards.”

  She turned around to see the head of an overweight man dressed in biker gear. It was rather difficult to make out his features with five glowering dudes snarling in front of him. The one who grabbed her stepped forward and pointed at Rob.

  Uh-oh.

  They moved through the crowd as a rendi
tion of the “Devil Went Down to Georgia” thundered from a jukebox.

  As they approached, she turned to Rob. “Is it time to go, yet?”

  “Nope.” He finished his beer and put the strap of his satchel over her shoulder. “But I suggest you stay out of trouble and find a seat somewhere else.” Stay out of trouble? Shouldn’t Rob follow his own advice?

  Tessa picked up her drink and searched for a free table. The bar was packed. She decided to pick a spot close by, behind the table of biker nymphs. They didn’t care anymore about harassing her. They had front-row seats to a fight.

  Five greasy wizards stepped up to Rob. Two matched his height, while the others peered up.

  “Our friend here says you need to be reminded of your place, Warlock,” one of the taller ones grunted.

  Rob’s right eyebrow rose. “Why don’t you come teach me?”

  The other taller one with a military buzz cut jabbed Rob’s chest with his index finger. “Let’s see how tough he is with all of us standing here.”

  “Rob. Don’t. Do. This,” the bartender warned.

  “Shut up, Stan! He don’t belong here,” one of the shorter ones with a missing eye said.

  Rob glanced at the finger on his chest. “Move it before I break it.”

  Tessa sighed. They should’ve left. Did he thrive on danger like this? She knew he was ex-Navy, but damn, did he need to stand up to everyone?

  The biker nymphs in front of her giggled as some of the patrons backed away.

  The wizard with his index finger pointed at Rob waved his hand again. Suddenly, Rob snapped. Grasping the finger, he jerked it wildly to the side. The wizard’s face contorted in pain as Rob’s firm grip drove him to his knees.

  His friends surged forward. Rob barked, “Take another step and I break his hand.”

  Behind him, Stan gritted his teeth. “Take it outside, Rob. Bart, call off your friends or I’ll step in to end this.”

  Rob released the wizard’s finger. With a sneer, Bart motioned with his head toward the door.

  Rob grinned wolfishly. “You first.”

  Tessa took a step forward. “Rob, why don’t we find a table? Let’s talk to Harry and—”

  “Oh, shut up!” One of the biker nymphs tossed peanuts in her direction. Another with a nose piercing joined the assault, forcing Tessa to follow the men as they left the bar.

  She reached the door, only to find herself flung backwards as the military hair cut wizard flew through the glass pane in the door. His momentum threw them into a table of wizards playing cards. Their goblets of brandy soaked her shirt as the blubbering wizard rolled off her. The hard imprint of poker chips pressed into her back. Grimacing, she removed a spicy chicken tender from her shoulder.

  “Sorry… I’m so sorry,” she mumbled to the old men as they continued to play. One of them tossed a card on her head as another raised a bet.

  Cackles of laughter from the biker nymphs, and a few other patrons floated through room over the screeches of the fiddle in the music. The fallen wizard wiped a line of blood from his mouth as he stood. Then he opened the broken door and bounded outside.

  She followed him to find Rob tossing around wizards like hopscotch marbles. One would attempt to throw a punch, which Rob blocked then responded with a swift jab of his own.

  Like fools bent on being punished, the pattern continued until one of the men grabbed Rob from behind. Before Rob could twist out to throw the attacker, another swept in and punched him in the ribs. She expected Rob to glance off the blow, but his face contorted in agony. The shorter wizard used the opportunity to hit Rob across the jaw.

  Rob shook off the blow, sidestepping out of the hold. “Is that all you got!”

  This had to end. What to do? What to do? The closest thing was a stack of newspapers. Read them to death? Need something better. As her eyes darted over the street, Rob snarled as he threw one of the wizards into a car door. The man rolled into a puddle of rainwater flowing into the sewer.

  With an idea in mind, she sucked in a deep breath, gathered the energy necessary to summon the water to her will. With a flick of her fingers, the water rose, then drenched the men in the street.

  They turned to her, dumbfounded.

  “Works on dogs. I can see it works on wizards as well,” she sneered.

  “What the hell did you dump on me?” a taller one moaned.

  “It smells like shit,” another said.

  NYC streets weren’t the cleanest in some places. A jump into the East River might’ve been a cleaner option next to being doused in puddles heading for the sewer.

  Rob flashed a dark look at the men, then clenched his side and limped toward the bar. He ignored her wide eyes and stepped through the new opening in the front door. His wet shirt clung to his torso.

  “Tessa, get your butt in here,” he yelled from inside the bar.

  She backed away from the wizards as Bart tried to help one of his fallen comrades.

  Once she returned, she found Rob sitting next to Harry at the bar. The table of card-playing wizards continued, their table now reassembled through magic, as if she’d never interrupted their game.

  Stan tossed Rob a tattered towel from behind the counter.

  “You always make an entrance, Shin.” Harry completed his shot with a single gulp. He scratched his straggled mane of dirty blond hair before belching.

  “If you would’ve made it during the appointed time, I would’ve stayed out of trouble,” Rob grumbled.

  He no longer held his side, but leaned inward with a scowl. “How much is it this time? And don’t think I haven’t checked the market prices.”

  “The usual price. I could’ve added a fee for transport, but I can see—” He plucked a small piece of plastic from Rob’s shoulder. “—that you’ve had enough drama this evening.”

  Rob reached into his jeans and pulled out a single ruby the size of a fingernail.

  Harry snatched the gem from Rob’s hand and examined it with glee. He bit into the stone then stuffed it into his pocket.

  “Feels legit.” He turned to Stan, tossing a few bills on the counter. “Another double Jack Daniels.”

  He dug into his biker jacket, pulling out a crumpled paper bag. He tossed it to Rob.

  “This one should last a lot longer. The magic is setup for one trial opening. After that, Clive will have to register its use with the Supernatural Municipal System.”

  Rob nodded.

  Harry chuckled. “You could’ve waited for Clive to buy another one of those.”

  “Last time this happened, Clive told me he waited three years for a replacement. I don’t have that kind of time.”

  A double shot of Jack Daniels was placed in front of Harry, only to be snatched by Rob. After slamming the drink in one gulp, he hissed while clenching his side.

  Was he hurt worse than she’d thought? “Rob, are you hurt?”

  “Old injury. Nothing that a quick handshake with my friend Jack Daniels won’t cure.”

  Most men like Rob didn’t walk around with rib-based injuries. His aunt had said he’d worked long hours. Maybe he’d pushed himself too far?

  She touched his shoulder. “How about we head on out since we have what we came for?”

  Rob nodded slowly.

  Harry rolled his eyes. “You already took my drink. If you ask nicely, I’ll bandage you enough to get home without pain.”

  “How much will it cost me?”

  “You’re already a valued customer. Consider it on the house.”

  Rob took a step forward. Then paused. “No tricks, wizard. The last spell you cast wasn’t funny.”

  “You can’t take a joke.” Harry turned to her with a wink. “I gave him a magical dose of Viagra. To help out. Apparently, he doesn’t have a sense of humor.”

  “I would have to agree on that one,” she chimed in.

  Rob frowned at her. “I had a hard-on for twenty-four hours. That kind of shit isn’t funny.”

  While stifling the urge to
laugh, Harry rubbed his hands together, drawing magic into his fingers. Light danced from hand to hand.

  Rob offered a small smile. “Thanks.”

  “No tricks, I promise,” Harry said. “If you feel anything funny, you can taint all my wands.”

  Rob flashed a grin that made Tessa’s insides melt. “Is that even possible?” he asked.

  “With the right tools, all of them rare, warlocks can jack up any weapon.” Harry lightly pressed his palms against Rob’s side. “Just give em’ cursed shit from each of the elements—fire, earth, wind, and water—and they’ll grow an ego big enough to think they can mess with the wizards.” The wizard backed away, apparently done with his work.

  “The right tools…” Rob appeared thoughtful then made a move toward the door. “Thanks again for the quickie.”

  “I treated you right, didn’t I? Last thing I think your lady friend needs is an injured boyfriend trying to tuck her in.”

  “H-he’s not my boyfriend,” she stammered.

  Rob leaned in to his friend, whispered something into his ear, and then patted him on the shoulder. Harry laughed with an evil glint in his eye. What secrets did Rob keep?

  “Nice doing business with you, Shin,” Harry said.

  Silent as always, Rob pulled her out of the bar.

  A little over an hour later, they arrived back at her apartment. Ever since they’d left the subway entrance, their walking had slowed down. Almost to a casual stroll. She hoped he wasn’t in pain.

  “You should get some rest. Are you sure we shouldn’t go to the hospital or something?” she asked.

  “I’m not one hundred percent right now, but I’m fine.” He was staring at her again. His body was hard to read, but his eyes said something else. The message made her stomach flip.

  “Maybe we can go out tomorrow then.” She tried to avoid his eyes and ended up glancing at his full lips. Not the best place. She daydreamed often as to whether they were as delicious as they appeared. “Oh, thanks again for watching out for me.”

  “Not a problem. Although I’m surprised you made it out of there in one piece.”

  “I’m not doing too bad.”