Switching Witches

by Robyn Peterman

  “Whatever,” she said, blowing her nose and then handing me back the wad of tissue.

  “I’m good. You can keep that.” I almost took the snotty tissue back. Being a mom, snot wasn’t as much of an issue as it used to be for me. But I really didn’t want to handle a stranger’s mucus no matter how well she was dressed.

  “My bad,” she replied with a small smile and a few tears still rolling down her cheeks. “You look great as a woman. Your boobs even look real. Can I touch them?”

  “Duuuude,” I said, slapping her hand away as she went for a grab. “The knockers are real. I’m not Zach.”

  She cocked her head to the side and stared at me in surprise. “Your boobs are real?”

  “Yessss,” I said with an eye roll. “You can’t fake perfection like these knockers.

  “They are really nice.”

  “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said politely.

  It was a standoff of sorts. We stood motionless amidst an array of counterfeit mummies, witches and vampires who were perusing the goods at the largest indoor magic shit shop I’d ever witnessed. They did not need to hear this conversation. It was obvious she still didn’t believe I wasn’t Zach.

  “You’re a woman?”

  “Last time I checked, yes,” I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her to a less populated area. If she wasn’t the shenanigans, I had a feeling she could help me find them. She was the most magical person I’d come across so far. Although, I still couldn’t place what she was.

  “So you’re really not Zach?” she questioned, shaking her head in confusion as she stared at me.

  “Not Zach,” I confirmed. “And I’d like to add that he must be a douchewagon not to like you.”

  “Thank you,” she said with the beginnings of another smile. “Who are you? I mean, I can tell you’re a witch—a really powerful one at that—but…”

  “I’m Zelda. Who are you?”

  “Willow,” she replied, touching my hair. “Is this your real color?”

  “Oh, my Goddess, first my boobs and now my hair? Yessss, it’s my real color. Why?”

  “Zach’s hair color is exactly the same… and his eyes and his face…the same too. I mean, not his body. He doesn’t have boobs,” she explained.

  “Well, if the assmonkey’s name is Zach, I would hope not,” I shot back wondering if Willow was right in the head. “What are you?”

  She eyed me for a long moment and then giggled. “I’m not allowed to tell.”

  “Says who?” I demanded. After being zapped and whacked, I was in no mood for cryptic bullshit.

  “The Goddess,” she said reverently. “Anyone who is to know my true origin has to discover it on their own.”

  The cryptic rules in the magical world drove me nuts. “Does Zach know?”

  Her lovely chin dropped to her chest and she sighed. “No. He won’t let me get close enough to him in a spiritual sense to learn my secret.”

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure, Zelda.”

  “Why are you pining away for an idiot who doesn’t see your worth?” I asked. Did she have terrible self-esteem? Was she one of those gals who only went for the unavailable guys? Was Zach a human?

  “Interesting,” she said with a small chuckle. “Do you realize what you just said?”

  “Umm… yes?”

  “Were you trying to guess my origin? Because that was close.”

  I went back over my last sentence in my head and decided Willow was crazy—possibly batshit crazy, but for some reason I liked her. “Nope, and you’re avoiding the question.”

  “He’s my mate,” she said with a sad smile. “He needs me.”

  Okay, she was either some serious cray-cray, a stalker of this Zach dude, or she was telling the truth. Since I still had no clue what the fuck I was looking for, I decided this could be a good distraction, or it could lead me to why I was at the dumbass Witchypoo Convention in the first place.

  “Is Zach here?” I asked.

  “He is,” she said nodding happily. “He’s with Zorro… and his mother.”

  Her tone changed dramatically when she said the word mother. It wasn’t reverent. Willow’s voice was odd and somewhat resentful. Interesting.

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I inquired, hoping Sassy was behaving herself and that my cats weren’t fornicating in public.

  “Everyone knows Zorro,” she said with a giggle. “He’s kind of famous around here.”

  “Well, I’m not from here,” I told her. “I’m just in town for the umm… festivities.” It was the most neutral way to describe the joke of a convention.

  “You’re the real deal. Why are you here?” Willow asked, touching my hair again.

  “I could ask you the same question,” I pointed out, feeling strangely fine that someone I had just met was playing with my hair.

  She smiled and stood up straight. Willow was taller than I’d thought originally or she’d just grown a few inches. “I’m here because Zach is here. He comes to all of these silly magic shitshows.”

  Willow was clearly my kind of gal with the use of the word shitshow. Of course, the next question was why? Why did Zach come to gatherings like these?

  My guess? Shenanigans.

  Getting smacked by Willow was turning out to be a fine thing indeed.

  “And what does Zach do at these shitshows?”

  “He does nothing,” Willow explained. “It’s his mother. She reads palms—goes by Marie Laveau, if you can believe that crap.”

  A foreboding tingle skittered up my spine and I had to keep my hands from sparking with effort. Was Willow involved with the bloodletting? Was I being set up? My gut said no, but my gut had also told me to buy gauchos a few years back when some asshole reported in Glamour that they were coming back into style. My gut could be wrong sometimes—very wrong. I had six pairs of gauchos that proved that theory.

  I could sense Willow had strong magic, but she had no clue how powerful I was, and I wasn’t about to inform her. I was loaded with more light and dark magic that should be legally allowed. Right now I was very happy about that.

  Reaching into my pocket, I felt for my walkie talkie. I knew I could call for Sassy, Mac or Jeeves in a heartbeat. I also knew I didn’t necessarily need them. I could blow Rupp Arena sky high with a wiggle of my nose. However, that was exactly why I needed them. Subtlety wasn’t my finest quality.

  “Since I’m new in town, why don’t you introduce me to Zach and Zorro?” I suggested. “Oh, and Marie Laveau.”

  “Marie Laveau aka Henrietta Smith will be sequestered in her tent,” Willow informed me with another impressive eye roll. “But I’d bet we could find Zorro.”

  “And Zach?” I asked with a raised brow.

  Willow sighed and blushed. “Yes. Zorro is never far from Zach.”

  “Great. Let’s go.”

  Let the shenanigans begin…

  Chapter Nine

  “Holy shee-ot, guuuurlfriend! Zach?” a ridiculously handsome Shifter shouted in delighted shock. “I had no clue you were into that. The boobies are to die for.”

  Zorro—I assumed—was dressed from head to toe in purple leather. It was just on the edge of wrong, but he made it work. If I had to guess, I’d say he liked boys, not girls. I had no problem whatsoever with that, but it was unusual to meet a gay Shifter. I wondered if he had a pack and I also wondered if Willow was blind… Maybe the elusive Zach was a gay Shifter too.

  “Duuude,” I snapped at the grinning Zorro. “I am not Zach. I’m Zelda. My girls are real and I’m a little tired of being mistaken for a man. It is not good for my fucking ego. You feel me?”

  Zorro’s laugh was all kinds of charming. I understood immediately why he was popular around town.

  “Well, slap my fine leather covered ass and call me Sally,” Zorro said, staring at me like I had two heads. “You’re really not Zach in a fabu dress?”

  I rolled my eyes. “
Nope. Not Zach. And what are you?”

  I was well aware that he was a Shifter, but I couldn’t tell exactly which kind. Mac would have known in a second, but Mac wasn’t here.

  “I’m gay,” he replied waggling his eyebrows.

  “Not what I meant,” I replied, now smiling at the nutty man.

  “Whoopsie, my bad. Let me be more specific. I’m not really a club gay. I’m more of a stay at home couch gay. I like to refer to myself as a homosectional.”

  His laugh at his own joke was loud. It made me feel warm and fuzzy. Holding back my own grin was impossible. I really hoped Willow and Zorro weren’t the bad guys here. It would suck all kinds of ass to have to eliminate them.

  “While that’s great to know,” I said, still grinning. “I was referring to your species.”

  “Ohhhhh, I see we’re getting personal here. No worries gurlfriend. I’m a goat Shifter. A fainting goat Shifter. A gay fainting goat Shifter.”

  “Shut the front fucking door,” I said, gaping at the beautiful, sandy blond haired, blue eyed man. Not one mummy, vampire or witch even blinked an eye at Zorro’s confession. Since they were all lying about what they were, they clearly assumed everyone else was too. “For real?”

  “For reals, for reals,” Zorro said with a wink. “I’m the one that passes out in a crisis. You know, so everyone can get away and the predator will eat me.”

  “Oh, my Goddess,” I choked out. “That must suck.”

  “Back in the day when I actually had to work, it did suck,” Zorro said, admiring my shoes and abruptly changing the subject. “What size are those Jimmy Choos?”

  “Seven and a half,” I told him.

  “Damnit, I’m a nine. I would rock those heels.”

  And that’s when my pocket started talking.

  “You know, if you were going to have a freakin’ sex change at the Poop Convention, you might have wanted to give me a heads up.” Sassy’s shrill voice came in loud and clear through the fabric. “I mean, you look hot and all, but Mac might be a little put out.”

  “Dude,” I snapped, grabbing the walkie-talkie out of my pocket and pressing the button. “I’m still a girl.”

  “No you’re not,” Sassy corrected me.

  “Am.”

  “Not.”

  “I am.”

  “Zelda, I’m following you down an aisle filled with horny mummies,” she informed me. “You are not answering to your name. And I just stepped in a pile of fucking eggs. What gives, dude?”

  I rolled my eyes as Zorro and Willow listened to the exchange with fascination. I wanted to ask her how she knew the mummies were horny, but I was terrified of her answer. I kind of liked my new buddies and I didn’t want them to get completely Sassied quite yet. “Is the person you’re following talking on a walkie-talkie?” I asked, hoping logic wouldn’t make her blow something up.

  “Holy shit. NO. How are you doing that? Are you a ventricle?” she demanded.

  I sighed. “I’m not a fluid filled brain cavity.”

  “Are you speaking Canadian? You know I’m not fluent in fucking Canadian.”

  “My bad,” I said with an eye roll. “Where is the person that you’re following going?”

  “Well, since it’s you, I would think you could answer that question. But from what I can tell you’re headed to the far back left corner.” Sassy griped. “And you’re walking fucking fast. SLOW DOWN. I’m wearing Prada stilettos, for the love of the Goddess.”

  “Just keep following me,” I instructed her. I was already in the far back left corner. Apparently, Zach was headed this way.

  “Zach is coming,” Willow whispered to Zorro. “Is she here?”

  Zorro shook his head and was no longer the happy go lucky gay goat. “She’s gone for an hour or so. Said she had some errands to run,” he said tightly.

  “And she let Zach stay here? Alone?” Willow asked, shocked.

  Goddess, Zach sounded like a momma’s boy… possibly a gay momma’s boy. However, there must be something redeeming about the loser. Both Zorro and Willow seemed to adore the…

  I realized I still had no clue what Zach was.

  “Is Zach a Shifter?” I asked, scanning the crowd for a dude who resembled me followed by a pissed off Sassy with raw egg on her shoes.

  “No,” Willow said. “He’s a warlock.”

  “And his mother is a witch?” I pressed, wanting more info. I was fairly sure Willow and Zorro weren’t causing the shenanigans. Which led me to believe that Zach and his bloodletting mother were the problem.

  “Human,” Zorro said so quietly I was sure I’d heard him wrong.

  “Human?” I asked, wrinkling my nose.

  Zorro nodded.

  “That’s not possible,” I replied. Something was very fishy here.

  A warlock born to a human? Zorro must have his facts wrong. I knew witches could breed with any species of magical being, but a human? That was something I’d never heard of.

  Then when my world tilted on its axis. Time slowed and I forgot where I was for a moment. My body tingled and some inside me felt strangely whole. WTF?

  Zach approached, and I came face to face… with myself.

  “What the hell?” Zach demanded dumbstruck, staring at me in absolute shock—the same way I stared right back at him.

  It was even more like looking in a mirror than when I was with Fabio. Gazing at the warlock in front of me stole my ability to take a breath. My skin heated and my stomach churned. Were there fun house mirrors here?

  “Who are you?” I whispered as I longed to reach out and touch him. I didn’t dare. This could be a deadly trick.

  “I should ask you the same question,” he replied warily, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

  Did he have the same desire to touch me?

  We circled each other slowly until Zorro grabbed Zach and Willow grabbed me. They quickly led us into a large, ornately decorated tent. Sassy burst through the flaps right as Willow went to zip them shut.

  “Zelda,” she started and then froze. “What the hey hey? Is that Fabio?”

  “Who’s Fabio?” Zorro asked.

  “A warlock,” I said absently still completely absorbed in Zach and not wanting all my cards on the table… yet. “You’re a healer?”

  Zach nodded curtly and offered me a seat. All redheaded witches and warlocks were healers. The witches were more powerful than the warlocks, but both had the gift to repair and cure other magicals. I knew it was rude, but there was no way I could sit down. A part of me wanted to crawl out of my skin. I didn’t know why, but something was very wrong.

  “Age?” Zach demanded.

  “That’s kinda impolite,” Sassy muttered.

  I agreed, but I wanted to know the same thing. “Thirty-one,” I replied and watched him pale.

  “And you?” I shot back.

  “The same.”

  I had to pace. If I didn’t I was going to have a meltdown. My mind raced with possible reasons for this. Did my dad have a bunch of random kids he didn’t know about? That was feasible as he didn’t know about me, but I was shocked that Fabio would have had sex with a human woman. It also would have meant he was boinking Zach’s mother at the same time he was boinking mine since we were both thirty-one. Fabio had been randy in his past, but I didn’t think he was that much of a man whore.

  Could Zach and I be related? Could my dead Aunt Hildy have had a son and given him up for adoption? That was fucking ludicrous. Aunt Hildy never would have given her child away. She had been the most loving woman I’d ever known.

  Zach had to be the product of my dad’s overactive pecker. Possibly… or maybe not. I didn’t know any other healing witches other than the ones I was related to. Maybe we all looked alike. My dad and I certainly did.

  Instead of getting mad at Fabio for his possibly shady history of playing hide-the-salami, which may have resulted in Zach, I glanced around the large tent. The interior was creepy. Animal skulls and vials of blood lined the red and black
shelves. Sawdust covered the floor and a few black braided rugs were scattered around. Candles flickered on every surface and a bogus crystal ball sat atop a blood red table in the center of the area. This was clearly where the bloodletting was going on.

  “Are you responsible for this?” I demanded, pointing at the vials of blood and pushing down my need to know more about the warlock who was the mirror image of me.

  “I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” Zach said flatly. “Your name is Zelda?”

  I nodded, not liking his attitude or tone of voice much, but still wanting desperately to touch his face. “Your birthday?”

  “June twenty-second,” he said, watching me closely.

  That’s when I sat down. It was either sit or drop to the ground with an ungraceful thud.

  “Holy shit,” Sassy shouted. “That’s your birthday, Zelda. What are the fucking chances of that?”

  “Slim to none,” Zach muttered.

  “Your father?” I asked, holding my breath.

  His beautiful face went from neutral to a sneer of disgust. “No clue and don’t give a shit. You?”

  My stomach plummeted. He was me a few years ago. No wonder Zach wouldn’t give Willow a chance. He didn’t love himself. He couldn’t love anyone else. I was a pro on that shit.

  “A warlock named Fabio,” I told him. “Your mother is the palm reader?”

  “She is,” he said emotionlessly. “And it’s time for you to leave since she will be arriving back soon.”

  Zach stood and unzipped the tent flaps. Zorro and Willow appeared surprised at his rude behavior but seemed eager for us to leave as well. Without saying a word, he ushered Sassy out. I had no plans to leave, but Zach had other thoughts.

  “You have to go,” he insisted in a clipped tone. “Now. Do not come back here. Ever.”

  “Zach,” Zorro said, narrowing his eyes at him. “You could be related to Zelda. What are you doing?”

  “I think she’s your twin,” Willow said the words I’d been thinking.

  But that was impossible. I was the only child of Fabio and Judith… or Sandy… or Isobelle… or Cassandra. My egg donor had gone by many names over her hundreds of years.

  Zach looked at the ceiling for a brief moment and I thought he was going to cave. He didn’t. When his eyes met mine, they were furious. Part of me wanted to cry and part of me wanted to throat punch him. My emotions were a rollercoaster at the moment.