Magic, New Mexico

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Magic, New Mexico Page 4

by ML Guida


  “Elliott. Donald Elliott,” he gasped, spit rolling down the sides of his mouth and staining his beard.

  “What does he want with my sister?”

  Whitehead shook his head. “He dudden want her. He wants you.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  He shrugged. “We dudden know.”

  His eyes shifted and he looked down at his boots. He was lying.

  She pulled the trigger. “Where is he?”

  “He dun buried in a cabin tighter than a Colorado tick,” Whitehead blurted.

  “There are lots of cabins around here. What’s the name of the road?”

  “I dudden know the name of the damn road, but it ain’t far from here,” he said. “Elliott said that if you dudden come, he’s fixin’ to kill your sister.”

  “Well, I wouldna want to disappoint him.

  “That’s what we were going to do, bitch,” Mason snarled.

  “Donna make me mad.” She forced his head back even further, a trickle of blood rolled down his neck.

  He put his hands up. “All right, all right. Just don’t cut my damn throat.”

  “Move,” she said. “Hands in the air.”

  Both men grumbled, but obeyed. She followed them out to the truck when she discovered a real problem. There was no way she could climb into the crew cab truck while holding onto her weapons. She had to come up with a plan.

  She tilted her head. “Open the back door.”

  Whitehead glanced at Mason.

  “Do it, idiot,” Mason growled, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.

  Whitehead reluctantly swung open the door.

  “Now move away from me…Slowly. Try anything and you’re both dead.” ’Twas a lie, but they didn’t know that.

  Mason and Whitehead walked ahead. Gwen moved next to the door.

  “Lie down on the ground with your arms stretched out in front of you.”

  “What?” Mason looked over his shoulder.

  She aimed the gun. “Do it.”

  “Stupid bitch,” he mumbled, but he got down on all fours. Whitehead followed suit.

  Gwen licked her lips. Her heart beat wildly and her hands shook. She was going to have to move fast. She tossed the weapons onto the back seat, then leaped up into the cab.

  She snatched her Colt.

  “You almost made it.”

  She turned around to Mason’s snarling face.

  “You’re going to pay for cutting me, bitch.” He smacked her with his pistol. Pain exploded on the side of her temple, and she passed out.

  Chapter Seven

  Theo skidded the squad car in front of Tortilla Flats. He got out of the car and slammed the door hard. “Gwen!”

  Pain swelled in the back of the throat at Gwen being so mad at him. He should have put a tail on Mason and Whitehead, but both he and Martin had been busy at a multiple car accident on the edge of town. He and Theo were it on Magic’s police force.

  People, sitting on the patio, stopped eating and stared at him uneasily. Jonah and Joseph came barreling out of the restaurant.

  Martin pulled up behind him. “Sheriff, wait.”

  The twins raced toward him, waving their arms. “Theo! Theo!”

  Heat flushed through his body. He held up his hand. “I don’t have time for this.” He swerved around Jonah.

  “Gwen’s not here.” Jonah grabbed his arm.

  Joseph stepped in front of him. “Neither’s her sister.”

  Theo growled. “How do you know?” He grabbed Joseph by the shirt and Larry peeked from underneath Joseph’s hat.

  Joseph put his hand on Theo’s. “We don’t know. Please don’t hurt me.” His voice was so small and his eyes so huge that calmness penetrated Theo’s anger.

  “Are you really going to hurt those sweet boys?” A familiar female voice asked.

  Theo whirled around. Topper held a book in her hand and a wand in another. Her hair was bright blue and pulled back into a neat ponytail.

  “What’s going on Topper?”

  She frowned and looked at her book. “Bad magic, I’m afraid.”

  Theo scowled. “What do you mean? Where the hell is she?”

  “Unfortunately, Theo, I can’t track her. Bad voodoo is at stake here.”

  “Fine. I know where to start.”

  “Theo, wait,” she said. “You’re going to need help.”

  “I can find my woman.” Theo got into the car and turned on the siren. He sped over to the Sleepy Inn.

  Byron walked out of the main office, wearing his famous sunglasses and leather jacket. “Hi Theo. What can I do for you?”

  “Where are your guests?”

  Byron shrugged. “They left. Still paid for the week though.”

  Theo pressed his arms to his side to keep from tearing Byron apart. “I thought you were going to contact me if anything strange happened.”

  Byron took a step backward. “I didn’t think guests checking out of here was strange.”

  “Did they say where they were going?”

  “No.” He shook his head.

  Theo slammed his hand on the top of his roof, making a dent. “Damn it.”

  Byron jumped and his face turned ashen. “Calm down, Theo.”

  Theo put his hands up in the air. Smoke puffed out of his flaring nostrils. “Did you at least see which direction they went?”

  “No. I’m sorry.”

  Theo hopped back into his car and peeled out of the parking lot, spraying gravel and dirt. Byron held up his arm to shield his face. He ran back into the hotel as if he were afraid he’d burst into flames.

  Sweat rolled down Theo’s temples. He gripped the steering wheel tight. God knows what Gwen would do. His little pirate wench had a definite mind of her own. He had to find her before she did something really stupid or worse get herself killed. Her love for her sister ran deep and she’d do anything to save her.

  A flutter lit up in his gut. Maybe she was home. He raced home, weaving out of traffic. He thought about changing into a dragon, but his blood was burning and pounding between his ears. He could barely control his anger. There was no way on Earth he could control his dragon’s fury. If he transformed, he’d liable burn the town to the ground hunting for his stubborn wench.

  He called her cell phone one more time.

  “Hello, this is Gwen…”

  He immediately hung up and tossed his phone onto the passenger seat. It wasn’t like her not to answer the phone–especially when he called.

  The hair on the back of his neck raised up. She was in trouble. He knew it.

  He skidded the car into the driveway. He bolted out of the car and into the house. “Gwen, Gwen? Are you here?”

  The kitchen and dining room were empty, but what made his heart sick was the seventeenth century cross-hilted sword over the fireplace mantel was missing.

  “Jeezuz, Gwen.”

  He hurried over to the gun safe and opened it. He bowed his head. Her Colts were both missing. He shut the door and spun the dial. “Hell, why did you do this?”

  He had to find her. He just had to.

  He grabbed one of her shirts and inhaled her sweetness.

  Concentrate, damn it.

  He wasn’t good at finding her by scent unless he was calm. Heat swelled inside him and his skin tingled. He lowered the shirt and sucked in deep breaths. His vision clouded and his muscles rippled, the dragon fighting to come out.

  He shook his head. “No.” Without Gwen, he always struggled to control his dragon. Her sweet kiss and touch calmed the beast inside him.

  Now, concentrate.

  Nothing.

  Maybe he needed to be outside. Their front porch looked over Magic and just maybe he could catch her scent.

  He came to an abrupt stop. He wasn’t alone.

  “I told you you’re going to need help.” Topper stood next to three other men. Two of them he knew. One was his deputy and the other was Cè Jackman, a vampire pirate. Cè had been flung through the time by a gi
ant spider in the seventeenth century like Theo’s wife, but now he was the local furniture maker.

  He had a holster with his guns and his sword. His blond hair was pulled back and he’d a sheepish grin. “You really want to do this on your own?”

  “Maybe.” He sized up the other large man that he had no clue who he was. He had a long dark hair and green eyes and wide shoulders, and he was dressed like a pirate.

  Topper turned to the third man. “This is Leif Black.”

  Theo frowned. “You’re Gwen’s and Grace’s brother?”

  “Aye. I am. The witch came and got me when I was out of sea.” He smirked. “She didna give me much choice.”

  Topper put her hands on her hips. “Your sisters are in danger.”

  “I know. They’re my life. There’s nothing I willna do for them.”

  Theo bared his teeth. “And so how are these men going to help me?”

  “Didn’t Gwen tell you?” Topper stuck her thumb out of Leif. “Her brother is a dragon and he knows how to control his beast.”

  Theo stiffened. “I’m in control.”

  Topper raised her eyebrow. “Really? Have you picked up Gwen’s scent?”

  Theo’s neck and ears turned hot. “I was coming out here to see if I could a get a good whiff.”

  “I can find my woman anywhere,” Leif said. “But you have to be calm.”

  “I am calm!” Theo growled and gnashed his teeth.

  “Uh uh.” Topper gave him a knowing stare. “I can see that.”

  Martin looked down at his hairy feet. Cè held his stare without flenching.

  “I know you’re worried,” Topper said. “We all are. But luckily, I brought something that might help.” She pulled a green bottle out of her leather purse. “This is a calming elixir.”

  “Only Gwen can calm me,” he muttered.

  “Yes, I know, Sheriff.” She walked over to him. “This contains her essence.” She handed it to him. “Now, drink.”

  He reluctantly took the vile from her and unscrewed the black top. He sniffed. An immediate smell of exotic flowers filled his nostrils. The knotted muscles balled up in his neck and shoulders slowly unwound. Topper gave him a superior smile and he grimaced.

  But she was right. He did need help. This was no time to hold on to stiff neck pride–not with Gwen’s life hanging in the balance.

  He downed the elixir in one gulp. Surprisingly, it tasted sweet and spicy at the same time like his Gwen. The tightness in his chest lessened, and he could breathe.

  Topper rubbed his arm. “Feel better.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  She flashed him a fixed stare. “You sound skeptical? You know my spells never fail.”

  “Close your eyes,” Leif said. “Then sniff. Trust me, it works.”

  Nothing else Theo had tried worked, so he did as his brother in-law asked. He inhaled deeply, blocking out everything in his mind. The aroma of the bougainvillea teased him. Gwen had planted those. The desert breeze whiffed over him of cacti, cooking smells–someone was barbecuing ribs–a bubbling brook and then a powerful smell slammed into him of sweetness, spice, and fear. He flew open his eyes.

  His nostrils flared and smoke puffed out. “She’s nearby. And she’s scared. We have to go now.”

  Topper grabbed his arm. “No.”

  He jerked free. “Why?”

  Topper gestured toward the other men. “You’re not at full strength. Not yet. You need to wait for the full moon.”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “She could be dead by then.”

  “Theo, I’ve told you there’s dark magic at work. If you rush in now, the magic could kill you and Gwen. Is that what you want?” Her voice softened.

  “No, of course not. Then what do we do?”

  “You form a plan,” she said. “Unfortunately, I can’t help you. The dark magic will smite down any witch from Magic. Whatever spell I try to use, it will magnify on me. But with the combined forces of two dragons, a vampire, and a shape-shifter, you can overcome the evil. You must work together. When the moon is full, you’ll be at full strength.”

  “Will Gwen still be alive?”

  “Yes,” Topper said. “He must wait to kill her during the full moon, because that’s when your baby’s gift is at full strength. You must tell Gwen to unleash her baby’s abilities.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I have just discovered that space dragon babies are very powerful, especially in the womb, but they don’t know it until they’re are called upon.”

  Theo’s gut tightened. “That’s why he wants to kill her, isn’t it?”

  “I’m afraid so. I have one more piece of advice. In this battle, you must trust all of your senses and not just your sight. Your sight may betray you. You all possess superior senses, especially smell. You’ll find this one will be your most powerful.”

  Martin frowned. “What does that mean? We’re supposed to go around Magic sniffing like bloodhounds?”

  Topper pinched his cheek. “Maybe you should, shape-shifter. I have a feeling where they’re holding Gwen isn’t too far from here. I must leave and consult with the council. We need to figure out way to get this dark presence out of Magic before it spreads like a cancer.”

  She headed toward her car and left them all staring at each other.

  Theo rubbed his chin. “Before we can form a plan, we need to find their hideout. A bloodhound wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

  Martin rolled his eyes. “God, the things I’ll do for you, Sheriff. You know, I prefer a werewolf…”

  Theo lifted his chin and growled.

  Martin put his hands up. “All right, all right. Don’t fry my ass. …Give me something of Gwen’s, so I can catch her scent.”

  Theo motioned. “Follow me.”

  Martin, Cè, and Leif followed him back into the house. Theo picked up one of Gwen’s favorite blankets and handed it to Martin.

  Martin held it up to his nose and smelled. He tossed it back onto the couch. “I’ve got it.” The long hair on his face and body decreased and turned from brown to red. His short-haired fur coat hung loose around his head and neck. The skin fell into loose, pendulous ridges and folds. His height shrunk until he was about two feet tall. His shirt and pants disappeared. He panted, slobber dripping from his jowls.

  Theo smiled. “Best damn looking bloodhound, I’ve ever seen.” He bent down to pet him.

  Martin growled and bared his teeth.

  “Easy, deputy. This is what I want you to do. Go find Gwen, then report back here. Topper said she was close by.”

  Leif opened the door. “Find them. I need my sisters to be safe.” He closed it. “Now, what?”

  Theo looked at both Leif and Cé. “We form a plan.”

  Chapter Eight

  Gwen woke to a splitting headache and she couldn’t see out of her right eye. Mason had hit her hard. She’d no idea those two lumbering eejits could move that fast.

  “Mason shouldn’t have hit you,” a wheezy voice said.

  A man sat in a recliner facing a roaring fireplace, which was strange since it was hotter than hell outside. Even at dusk, the temperature in Magic was still hot. She didn’t see Grace or the two convicts, either.

  “Are you Elliott?”

  “Yes, I am.” He broke out into dry cough that almost made her feel sorry for him.

  Almost.

  “Let me go, you cur.” Gwen pulled on her restraints and twisted in her chair. A log fell off in the fireplace and sparks flew.

  Donald sat at a chair and patted his mouth. “This will all be over soon.”

  “Where is my sister?”

  Donald hacked and hacked then spit up into his handkerchief. He jerked his thumb toward another room. “She’s…unconscious.”

  “You have me. Why havena you let my sister go?”

  He swiveled his leather recliner to face her. “Because I can’t have any witnesses.”

  His face was racked with pain and his eyes were sunken int
o his skull. He looked like a starving skeleton except for his full head of hair.

  She pulled on her restraints. “Why are you doing this?”

  “I’m dying. And you’re my last resort.”

  Beads of sweat formed on the top of her forehead. “What do you mean?”

  “A voodoo priestess said that the blood of a dragon could cure me.”

  “You bloody codfish. I’m not a dragon.”

  “I know, but you’re pregnant with one. The priestess said dragons are the most powerful when they are in utero. I wished this hadn’t had to come to this, but I have no choice.”

  She gripped the arms of her chair tightly. “No choice for what?”

  “Your baby is most powerful when its midnight.” He walked over to the small kitchen and ran his hand over a white towel that had tools underneath it. He ripped back the towel to reveal a long and a short knife, an ax, a saw and a heavy duty meat cleaver. That’s when I have to kill you and drain all your blood.”

  Her mouth ran dry and the room, tools, and his face spun around her. Heat spiked inside her and she fought not to pass out. “You’re the spawn o’ the devil.”

  “No, I’m a dedicated businessman. I don’t deserve this disease. I deserve to live.”

  She frowned. “And my baby and I deserve to die?”

  “Your baby isn’t human, so I’m only putting down an animal. However, regrettably, I have to put down both you and your sister.”

  “No.” She struggled harder. “You canna be serious. Drinking my blood isn’t going to heal you.”

  Evil flickered in his eyes and he licked his lips. “Not yours. Your baby’s.”

  Her stomach fluttered as if the baby heard what he was saying. Maybe he or she could hear. ’Tis not like she had a baby dragon reference book. “You’ll never touch my baby.”

  He frowned. “The priestess was right. We have unwanted visitors.” He gripped a glowing silver knife in his hand. “Mason, get in here.”

  The door opened. Mason had a bandage on his neck, which made her smile.

  But he didn’t look at Elliott. He glared at Gwen with pure hatred. “What, boss?”

  “Is there some kind of creature outside?”

  He blinked. “What animal?”

 

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