kate storm 04 - witches dont back down (12 page)

Ash and I made love. Like we were building something together. A future.

My heart pitter-patted again.

"I know Al knows, Ash. But do you want to look him in the eye when he comes out here and takes a sniff?"

Al's bulging, wet, brown eyes get me every time.

Ash glanced around the deck, looked at the chair we'd recently vacated.

He turned back to me. "Do you have any more spray?"

I guess I'm not the only one who is a sucker for Al's eyes.

14. A Bad Feeling.

I sat back in my chair. Damn it. Where the hell could Morgause be?

I'd gotten to work a couple hours early as per my usual these last few weeks and yet I was exactly where I had been when I'd started actively searching for Morgause.

Nowhere.

I didn't have a single clue.

Every link I'd followed on Google had ended in a dead end.

Every. Single. One.

I was starting to get really worried.

More than that, I was starting to get nervous.

I'm cursed to Fail in Love. My entire coven is. Aunt Tabitha and myself.

Morgan is excluded since she is now a vampire.

Vampires are immune to curses.

Being cursed to Fail in Love means just that. I can love Ash as much as I want to, but eventually–and it's not an exact timeline–something will happen to destroy our love.

Ash and I had confessed all of our secrets to one another. So some sort of hidden emotional time bomb was out.

Which left the physical.

I'm the mortal one.

Half-bred. Cursed. Mortal witch.

Mortal means vulnerable.

The humans know this all too well.

The HC could care less.

I never attempted to defend myself when I was at the Witch Academy because I knew from the get go I would end up severely hurt and/or possibly killed. There could be no other outcome.

That's the basic definition of mortality. Mortals are susceptible to injury and at some point death. It's not something the HC contemplate. I doubted Ash had related my being cursed with my mortality.

And I hadn't mentioned it to him yet.

1) I didn't want to worry him. 2) There was nothing he could do about it. 3) I didn't want to be the weak link in our relationship.

I know I promised him I would tell him if anything bad happened in my life.

And I intended to. The very moment something happened to threaten my life, I would be on the phone screaming for Ash.

Trust me, I don't want to die.

But until that moment, I planned to enjoy my life.

Which did not include relating my worries to Ash. Or Al.

There wasn't much either of them could do. Except worry.

Curses don't operate on set time frames. It's part of the whole curse factor. If you are going to curse someone, you might as well give them something else to worry about rather than an exact time the curse is going to take effect.

From what I've been told, it heightens the satisfaction of the curse giver.

I wouldn't know as I've never cursed anyone. Gas spells are not curses. They are intestinal discomfort spells.

Although I have to admit to some satisfaction when I cast them at Lana.

Still, I wouldn't curse her. Arch enemy or not, I knew what it was like to live under the spell of a curse. I wouldn't wish it on anyone.

And worse, I was beginning to think the curse might take effect. Sooner rather than later.

It wasn't anything I could put my wand on. Nothing specific.

Just a feeling I had.

A bad feeling.

The hair at my nape starting to stand up. Goose pimples breaking out over my arms despite the heat. A sudden spooky tingling at the base of my spine.

Those kind of bad feelings.

And they were getting worse.

If I couldn't find Morgause, there was no possible way to break the curse.

Which meant my time was going to be up soon.

Frankly, it pissed me off.

Not only did I want to live, but I was also happy for the first time in my life. Not that I had been miserable before. I had my Aunt and Morgan and Al and Love Required
.
A damn good life. However, the curse had left a hole. An empty space inside of me. One I assumed would never be filled.

Until Ash.

Now I was madly in love with the demon of my dreams and I had an actual group of friends.

Happy.

And I wanted a future.

Something I could look forward to.

I wanted my own happily-ever-after.

****

Désirée Norma-Sue arrived early to work. I was concerned before I remembered today was Friday and she had big plans to see the author Charles Clayton at Oracle's books.

Then I started to panic. Today was Friday. As far as I knew Morgan still hadn't found anyone to go to karaoke with her.

I know it seems odd, a grown witch afraid of karaoke. I've faced assassin vampires and my arch enemy. I should be able to handle a little public singing.

And I probably could if I didn't have to worry about being videotaped as well.

I love Morgan. I cherish our friendship. I couldn't imagine not having her in my life.

But she is a goddess and I am a chubby witch with wild, curly hair. I don't match up well in a side by side physical comparison.

Not that I am shallow.

There are just A LOT of internet viewers who are.

It was only eleven. A lot could happen in the next eight hours and nineteen minutes which was sunset. Or soon to be known as The Time of Kate's Second Great Epic Internet Disaster.

I cast an alarm spell on my wand to go off at seven. Then I told myself to put those worries aside.

I refused to panic.

I'd wait until the alarm went off and then I'd panic.

Désirée poked her head around the door to my office. "Sugah, you want some tea? I just bought a new green tea blend. It's supposed to be yummy."

Her hair was black, white and green today. I couldn't see the rest of her outfit, just her head, but it was enough to rob me of speech for the moment.

Désirée had pulled her hair up into an elaborate, rather long and twisty beehive. Wide sections were black and white with narrower twists of green in between. She'd curled it and knotted it and wrapped it as it arched back and up over her head in an amazingly complex style. I tried to follow it with my eyes, but my eyes started to cross after a few seconds.

I blinked rapidly.

"Sugah?"

I nodded as I opened my mouth just in case the ability to talk was still beyond me. "Yes."

Désirée Norma-Sue gave me a thumbs up and disappeared around the door frame.

I jumped up from my chair. I had to see the rest of the outfit. Désirée always coordinated her outfits with her hair. The color scheme reminded me of a sick zebra. I knew she could make it work, I just couldn't imagine how.

I smoothed my red, stretchy top with the deep vee neckline as I headed out to Désirée's desk. I didn't bother to smooth my curls. They wouldn't respond and I figured today Désirée's hair was actually taller than my own.

The rest of the outfit included a tight, white pantsuit with a neckline that plunged to a point below her breasts, a green sash belt tied over her right hip and four-inch black heels. It reminded me of something, but I couldn't put my wand tip on what exactly. It was also incredibly tame compared to her usual style. Aside from her hair which still made my eyes cross.

"I like your outfit, Désirée." I really did and as long as I refrained from looking at her hair, my eyes didn't twitch.

"Thanks, Sugah." Désirée smiled, reached up and patted the side of her beehive. "I wore it in honor of Charles Clayton."

I nodded several times then shook my head. "I don't get it."

"He's a self-defense author and I'm a green belt in karate."

That's what it reminded me of. Désirée's pantsuit vaguely resembled a gi–the white jacket and pants I'd seen people wear when they practiced martial arts.

"You're a green belt in karate?" She'd never mentioned it before.

Désirée nodded. "I started taking lessons after I left Louisiana."

When she had also left her psycho ex-fiancé.

Désirée Norma-Sue was one smart fairy. She knew what she wanted, what she needed to do to get where she wanted to be, and what precautions she had to take to make it happen.

She'd been able to fix her problems with some distance and karate lessons.

I wished mine were as easily fixable.

My cell phone rang. I held up two fingers when Désirée raised the sugar jar and dug my phone out of my jean pocket.

I wondered if I would look good in a pantsuit?

"Good Morning . . ."

"Doll?" Al interrupted.

I held the phone away from my ear and stared at it for a second. Al couldn't place a phone call. He'd tried it before, but his paws were actually too big for one. I moved the phone back to my ear and caught the last few words.

" . . . at
Got Fangs?.
Teri is here and she knows some good healing spells."

"What?!"

Sweet Spirits. Al had been hurt? Where the hell was Ash? Al and Ash had left that morning to talk to Drake and Phil about the motorcycle shop. They lived only a few blocks away. What the hell could have happened?

I ran over to the supply closet and grabbed my back up broom.

"How badly are you hurt?"

Al was so tiny anything could do some serious damage. At least he was talking and didn't sound in excruciating pain.

"I'm not hurt, Doll."

Great. He was going to go all macho on me and pretend everything was just dandy when his leg was probably broken.

I stifled a moan and turned towards my office, but Désirée Norma-Sue was already ahead of me. My raised and slightly hysterical tone had probably alerted her to the emergency. She handed me my wand.

"You just told me you needed a healing spell, Al. Please don't sugar coat it. How bad is it?"

I hoped Aunt Tabs was home. Teri did know quite a few healing spells, but I wanted the best for Al and the best was Aunt Tabitha.

"Doll!"

I stopped dead in my tracks. Al had never yelled at me before.

How badly was he hurt?

"Listen to me, Doll. I'm fine. Ash is the one who's hurt."

15. Panic.

Désirée Norma-Sue drove me to
Got Fangs?
.

I'd dropped both the phone and my broom and hadn't been able to pick them back up again.

My hands weren't working right. In fact, nothing in my body seemed to be functioning properly.

I'd heard
Ash
and
hurt
and that had been it. The two words circled around and around in my brain, crashing into synapse after synapse, disrupting any chance of my body being able to work as it should.

I don't even know how I got into her car.

"Al didn't say what happened?"

"No." He might have tried, but when I dropped my phone, it shattered.

The symbolism nearly sent me crashing to the floor after it.

I'd been frantic when I thought Al might be hurt. I worry about it constantly. He's a very small dog and at some point I expect him to be injured. I hope it will never happen, but given his size and the law of averages when it came to accidents, I figure sooner or later he would get hurt.

I'd created an internal emergency plan and had a mental check list just in case. I'd run through various scenarios from accidentally stepping on his paw to a potential gryphon attack. I knew what to do if Al was ever injured

Demon kings are not supposed to be hurt.

Ash has visible scars on his face and I knew he'd been gravely injured in the past, but those same scars had made him tougher. He'd trained harder and longer afterwards until he was invincible. Asmodeus, King of Demons. Ruler of Hell. Dominant and invincible.

Except apparently he wasn't.

He had been injured.

Désirée slammed to a stop in the parking lot behind
Got Fangs?.
I was out of the car and halfway to the backdoor before she turned the engine off.

I think I was channeling Morgan because I literally flew inside the bar.

I finally stopped in between two tables by the dance floor when I realized I couldn't see anyone.

Not Teri. Or Al. Or Ash lying in a large, ever-growing pool of his own blood with his arm half-severed, large and bone deep gashes covering his lower abdomen and upper thighs and his left eye dangling against his cheek, attached to his head by ragged muscles that . . .

Oh, Sweet Spirits. Why did I have to be a witch with an over-active imagination?

I pressed my hands over my heaving stomach and spun around slowly, looking for Al or Ash.

They were sitting at the bar. Ash on a stool. Al on the counter.

Teri stood on the other side of the bar with a beer bottle in one hand and a small glass of what I assumed was bourbon in the other.

All three of them were frowning at me.

I put my hands on my hips and glared at Al.

"What's going on, Al? I thought you said Ash was hurt. Did you just punk me?"

I didn't understand. Al was not the type of hitman to play practical jokes. Yet Ash was clearly okay. I couldn't see a scratch on him anywhere and trust me, I was looking
closely
. Al sat on his haunches, totally unconcerned. Ash had his chest half-facing the bar, half-facing me. Exposed muscles bulging as usual. No cuts, scrapes or bone deep gashes. Not even a damn band-aid.

The back door slammed open and Désirée Norma-Sue came barreling through.

"How bad is it?" She stopped next to me. "What can I do to help?" She held up her hands. "I brought supplies."

She held my wand in one hand and what looked like a maxi pad and a pair of needle nose pliers in the other.

Let's just say the HC have no knowledge of first aid and leave it at that.

I turned back to Ash and Al.

Teri winked at me before she disappeared into the back room.

I didn't rush over to where they sat at the bar. I stayed where I was with my hands on my hips, scowling at them. I needed a minute. After my desperate rush into
Got Fangs?
this might seem uncaring, but I could clearly see they were both fine. And, frankly, I needed more than a minute.