Authors: Natale Stenzel
“Wait! I was bluffing about the tail. I can’t do that, I swear—it would go contrary to your karma. Just give me a chance here
to show you what I can do for you. I promise you’ll like what I have in mind for your pal Tiffy. All good stuff.”
Silently debating, Mina regarded him. The puca still wanted something from her, so it wouldn’t make sense for him to cross
her. Maybe he was trying to win her favor after all. Could be he was telling the truth. “All right. I’m probably going to
regret this, but let’s see what you can do.”
She picked up the receiver and dialed the number. When someone picked up, Mina studied Riordan while she spoke in a careless
tone. “Hey, Tiffy. It’s Mina. . . . Yes,
that
Mina. How’s it going? . . . Right. Hey, I found Jackson’s video camera, and
wow
but that boy took some wild footage. Have you seen it yet? . . .
Oh
, yeah. And as I understand it, there’s a huge market for amateur porn, especially on the Internet. What an interesting opportunity
for me, don’t you think?” Mina batted her eyelashes just a little.
“So I thought I’d just go ahead and upload some of these fun party pics of you. They’d be perfect. Yeah, there’s this website
I found and—Oh, you don’t think so? But they’d pay me an
awful
lot of money and you know I’m unemployed now and—Tiffy? Tiffy, are you still there?” She hung up the phone. Turned back to
the puca. “I think she’s on her way over now.”
He was already snorting, probably a dog laugh. “I like you, Mina. We could have some fun.”
Pondering Tiffy’s outraged shriek, Mina couldn’t suppress a grin of her own. “Think so?”
“Oh, I do. So come on, you’ve got to tell me.” He pranced around, his dog butt bobbing with excitement. “
Was
there a camera running? For real? Can I see?”
Mina groaned. “Just when I think we have a chance at getting along, you go all perverted on me. Pleeease—”
“All right, all right. But do you know how long it’s been since I enjoyed some skin slapping? Or even some fur plumping—”
“Oooh, yuck.” Mina pressed the sides of her head, trying to distract her mind’s eye from . . . yuck. “Why do you say these
things? Now all I can see is—ugh.”
“Hey, it’s not a perfect life, but a puca’s gotta do what a puca’s gotta do.”
“Right. Fine. Too much,
way
too much information.”
“I’m just teasing. Man, you’re easy. No, I don’t do animal sex. That’s way beneath me. No, baby, I’m a sexual connoisseur.”
The puca’s eyes glowed. “Seriously. Anytime you want a sampling of puca pleasure, you just come talk to your buddy Riordan.
I’ll set you up.”
“You sound like a sleazy pimp. Or a drug dealer.”
“Only because I’m in my—what did you call it?— cockapucapeekapoo form. It’s real hard to seduce like this, I’m telling you.
But if you want, I can shift—”
“Change the subject. What are you going to do to Tiffy?”
“Just teach her a lesson.”
“Yeah?” A lesson from a puca. Somehow Mina thought it might be a poetic one. “Can I watch?”
“Now there’s a girl after my own libido.”
“Sick puca. Bad puca. This better not be some twisted and torturous thing you’re going to do. Or at least, I better not get
blamed for it.”
The puca sighed, shook his head, ears flopping just a little. “I can do subtlety. Like I said, you won’t be sorry.”
Ten minutes later, there was a frantic knocking on the door and feminine threats. “Pandemina Avery, you better not have played
those movies for anybody or I swear I’m going to—”
Mina swung the door open. “Hi, Tiffy. So you like to play porn star. That’s so enlightened of you. Not that I personally would
participate in anything like that. I do have a reputation to think about. Although . . . I guess I could do just about any
sleazy thing I want to now. Morally speaking, I’m a free agent since the Mason County School District banned me from its hallowed
classrooms. Isn’t that right?”
“So that’s what this is about? You’re out for revenge?” Every bleached blond hair on the woman’s head stood on end. Could
be it was from the hairspray holding it in place. Or maybe the severely taut skin of her face-lifted forehead and scalp pinned
it upright.
“Tiffy. Honestly. That claw thing you do with your bangs? That went out of style decades ago. Time for a new ‘do.”
“You’re just jealous because I—”
“I’m sure you’re absolutely right. So—”
Okay, that’s all I needed. You can throw her out but leave the
door open for me. I shouldn’t be long.
The voice dopplered eerily as he became a blurred, not quite substantial form that kept to the shadows leading toward the
door.
Mina watched still-yapping Tiffy with mild concern.
You’re on, babe. Toss her butt. Unless, of course, you haven’t
finished talking to the woman.
No, I’m done. But you’re not going to do anything illegal are you? Or universally taboo, or just really, really bad . . .
right? Riordan?
A little trust, please?
She groaned. But she knew she was going to let him do it. The puca didn’t strike her as evil, and she was, technically, his
guardian and could pull him back just by spouting a little speak-of-the-
blank
, right? She hoped.
Okay, Riordan, you’re on. I had to actually invite the woman into my home and I feel really dirty now. Make it better.
Yes, ma’am.
There was a smile in his words.
“Bye, Tiffy.”
“Where is that camera?” She shrieked the question.
Mina grinned. “I don’t have Jackson’s camera. I was just bluffing. Thanks for sharing, though. It’s been educational.” Mina
herded her toward the door.
Tiffy’s big eyes seemed to cross just a little, and her carefully plucked eyebrows knit in confusion. “But . . . You mean
you . . . Well, of course you didn’t. It’s not like I actually—”
“Right. You can go now.” Mina sought distraction. “Where’s your stepson? You didn’t leave Nathan home by himself, did you?”
Tiffy looked affronted now, but she was through the door finally and standing on the porch. The shadows seemed to envelop
her as she stepped back. “Nathan’s a responsible boy. Almost a teenager. I can leave him alone for a few little minutes, you
know, and—Oh! He-ey!”
Mina jumped but couldn’t really see.
Just turn around and go back inside. You don’t need to watch this.
Aw, come on, Riordan. Are you goosing her?
“Oh, my god! What are—whaaaaa!” Not pain. Fear. Tiffy had moved off the step into the shadows.
Uh, Riordan. Don’t, like, really hurt her, okay? I don’t like the woman, but I’m not loosing a puca hit man on her either.
Have a little faith, please. No lasting damage—I swear. This
is all good stuff. Go inside and relax. Read or pluck your nose
hairs or do whatever women do when no one’s around to watch.
I’ll be back.
Well, she’d gone this far, so why not? Mina turned around and strode evenly toward her bedroom. She heard the faint
clop-clop
of . . . horse hooves?
Startled, she pivoted to look through the open doorway. There was nothing there. No sign of the puca or Tiffy. Just Tiffy’s
car, with its door wide open. Mina wavered. Maybe she’d been irresponsible. She hated to actually claim guardianship of the
puca, but if he really was her responsibility, maybe . . .
Have faith, Mina. Like I said, I’ll be back in a flash. So to
speak.
A wicked chuckle echoed faintly in her head.
“Okay. You can close the door now.”
Mina jumped awake, the eerie voice still echoing in her head. It was the stuff of nightmares and fantasies—and wow, but she’d
had a few. She slumped weakly back in her armchair. She’d only fallen asleep for a moment, although during that brief moment
she’d managed to entertain all manner of wild dreams. Cornerstones and shape-shifters and demonic dogs and talking horses
and . . .
“Hello? I’m here. Not a dream.”
Heart sinking, she reluctantly opened her eyes. Blinked. “Oh, god.”
“No,
Riordan
.” The puca chuckled. “Hey, I’m in dog form. You seemed to prefer that one, so here I am, fuzzy and courteous. Hey, I even
invited you to close the door so I wouldn’t be tempted to cause more trouble. Pretty mature of me, I thought. Noble even.”
Mina glanced at the mantel clock. It was two in the morning; she’d been waiting for hours now. She’d occupied herself briefly
by setting up space heaters she’d rescued from the attic—relics of her rental past and, likely, her rental future. Then she’d
gone and stuffed towels under the door to her kitchen as crude insulation and attempted some decluttering of her ransacked
house. Exhausted even by that, she’d collapsed in the living room chair where she now sat.
Reluctantly, she turned to face the puca, blinking a little distractedly at the glowing eyes.
“I can’t help the eyes. They are what they are. Get used to ’em.”
“I’d rather not.” She studied Riordan a moment. He seemed unscathed. He also seemed to be lacking a certain boyfriend-snatching
fiend. “So, should I ask?”
“Which question? The door one or the bitch one?”
“Since I’m terrified of your answer to the Tiffy one, we’ll start with the door. Can you just leave this house whenever you
want? And what kind of trouble can you cause me, anyway?”
“Well, you are my guardian after all. A ward can wreak all kinds of havoc with a guardian’s life. But I didn’t do that. See
how well-behaved I was?”
“We’ll get to the well-behaved part in a moment. Can you just leave whenever you want?”
“Hey, you can always call me back. Remember the ‘speak of the’ thing I told you about? It still works.”
Puca was stalling. Not good. She narrowed her eyes. “Answer the question. Can you leave at will?”
“No. Well, not ordinarily, anyway. But significant exceptions do apply under certain circumstances.”
That sounded bad—like small print about guardianship in a seemingly harmless last will and testament. “Like?”
“Hey, what happened to two questions?”
“You’re still answering the first one. Explain these exceptions and circumstances.”
“Bossy. Fine. If you invite someone in and leave the door open behind them, I can, well, escort them to some extent.”
“Define escort.”
“Do you really want me to?” That was a definite doggy grin.
“Oh, god.”
“No, it’s Riordan. You’re having a little trouble with that tonight, aren’t you?”
“You’re going to hell for that.”
“I know.”
“So. Escort?”
Riordan sat on his haunches. “Okay, this is where I educate you on the puca and legend. First, the overview: A legend only
has as much power as belief lends it. Get that much?”
She nodded.
“According to the most popular legend surrounding my brother and myself—as in, the one most commonly believed and therefore
the strongest of the puca’s powers—a puca in stallion form can take humans on what’s considered the ride of their lives.”
“A ride on the puca? That’s not a euphemism for some kinky sex act, is it?”
“No, although given my obvious prowess, I could see where you might think so.” If a dog could grin lasciviously, then that
was exactly what Riordan was doing.
“Riordan—”
“All right, all right. It’s just a wild, possibly frightening but mostly traditional, gallop to wherever my little heart might
desire. After this ride, the human returns to civilization . . . er . . .
changed
. I regained this power when I left the cornerstone, just as I suspected I might, but I can only use it if certain circumstances
are in place and if karma supports my intentions.”
Mina shot to her feet. “Changed? What do you mean changed? Oh, no. You really did give her a tail. No, you made her a horse.
Or a swine. Or—”
“Not changed like me, you dope. Changed . . . internally. Mentally.”
“What, a few more screws loose upstairs? She’s a blithering idiot now?”
Another doggy grin. “Now that would be fun, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ll admit to a fleeting temptation. And I feel really bad about that, by the way. You didn’t, did you?”
“No, the change is more like a life lesson. The experience of a lifetime to make you question who and what you are, and what
you might do with your life if the wild ride doesn’t end in horrible death. You know, that kind of thing.”
“No. Way.”
The puca shrugged, unconcerned.
“So you mean like a change of heart? Attack of conscience?”
The puca shrugged again.
“Dogs don’t shrug.”
“Sorry about that. No one’s around but us anyway, except . . .” He cocked an ear.
The doorbell rang.
More doggy grin. “Showtime.”
“Mina? Mina, please open up. We need to talk. I—”
Mina heard sobbing through the door and glanced, appalled, at the puca before running to open it. “Tiffany?”
The woman was a mess. Her blond spikes were flattened on one side and sticking out every which way on the other. Smudges of
dirt had mixed with the tears and makeup on her cheeks, and her tiny cardigan was stained with . . . paint? A smeared red
cross, maybe? No, a
T
—make that a huge, if blurred, letter
T
. With a backward
e
in front of it. Both in red, with smears of yellow and black . . . What the hell had happened to the woman?
Isn’t it obvious? She got puca’d.
He sounded obscenely satisfied.
Shut. Up. “Tiffany? Are you okay?”
Tiffy seemed flustered. And she was attempting further speech. “I have to . . . I’ve got to . . .”
“Use the bathroom?” Mina guessed.
“No.” Tiffany took a breath, grabbed Mina’s upper arms and stared fiercely into her eyes.
The woman was actually focused—feverishly so—and Mina had always doubted Tiffy was capable of anything beyond momentary concentration.
Normally, her eyes seemed to work independently of each other, much like her mouth and brain.
“I’ve been wrong. Spiteful. I never should have . . .” Tiffany swallowed hard, her eyes glazing slightly as she ran down a
mental list. “I’m going to call the school board and tell them I was mistaken. You’re a wonderful teacher and I need therapy.”
She refocused. “You’re entitled to a private life and I had no right to publicize the details or judge you. And I never should
have cheated on my husband. I messed up both of our lives. Four lives. No, five, if you count Nathan. He was hurt by all this,
too. That’s wrong.” She looked like a religious zealot riding a caffeine buzz.
“Well. Yeah.” Mina blinked, a little dazed. “So you’re going to—”
“Call the school board. First thing in the morning. I’ll rally the PTA behind your cause if I have to. Anything. We’ll get
your job back.”
“Seriously? You’re not sleepwalking or anything, are you? Do you have a head injury? Because I understand head injuries. They
can do some freaky stuff to your mind and—”
“No. I’ve just finally seen clearly. And I am
sorry
.” Tiffany’s eyes were feverishly intent and her voice shook with the intensity of her emotions. Maybe she was sick? No, she
was just really, really, emphatically sincere.
Mina studied her a moment. “Apology accepted. Thank you.”
“I’ll call tomorrow. I will.” Tiffany backed out the door.
“Watch out!”
Tiffany tripped on the step and Mina reflexively lunged forward, but Tiffany stuck an arm straight up, already scrambling
to regain her footing. “I’m fine. Just a stumble. I’ll call. I will.”
“Thanks.” Mina stared, almost speechless, as the woman sprinted to her car, launched into the front seat and sped off.
Mina watched the taillights disappear around the corner, until something nearby caught her attention. A presence. Eyes in
the dark? She squinted. Freaky night, head injury, Tiffy with a brain infarction . . . and now someone watching all of it?
Just what she needed. Tiffy—
“You might want to close that soon. It’s getting a little breezy in here.”
“Huh?”
“The door.” The puca padded toward her and nudged the door closed with his nose.
Mina absently pushed it the rest of the way home and set the bolt. Then she stared down at her puca. Her puca.
“Feeling possessive now that I’ve strutted my stuff?” The puca gloated.
“You.”
“Yes?”
“You’re like . . . like . . .”
“For a writing teacher, you really have a way with words.”
“A loaded weapon. A time bomb. A body snatcher. What did you do to her? She’s not herself. Is she?”
“Sure, she is. She won’t be quite so religious in her quest tomorrow, but she’ll still be determined. That’s how it’s always
worked. She’s finally seen the light.” He panted, tongue hanging over his left jowl. “I’m good at showing it to them.”
“But that hardly seems ethical. Or fair. You’re messing with her head and twisting nature around and—What am I saying? You’re
a wonderful, wonderful puca. She seemed like a human being. And I’ll get my job back, too?”
“That’s the plan.”
Then her heart sank. “No, I won’t. There’s still the mortgage, which is in my name and Jackson’s. They can’t ignore it now
that she’s shoved it in their faces.”
“Funny thing about that mortgage of yours.” If she didn’t know better, she’d think the dog was checking out his front toenails,
in a manicure inspection sort of way.
“What about the mortgage?” Mina stared at the dog. What had he done? Oh, no. Could she lose the house now? Maybe it was some
kind of payback thing? She could keep the job but at the expense of the house? Hell, she didn’t know how this whole puca karma
thing worked.
“Soon it’ll be in your name only.”
“My—”
“The house is yours. Only yours. Thanks to Tiffy’s intervention, Jackson will accept your generous offer to buy back his half
and the paperwork will go smoothly. I guarantee it.” The dog, seriously, batted its eyelashes at her. Its eyes looked like
two flashlights performing a duet in Morse code.
“But I never made an offer to buy him out. I don’t have that kind of money.” She gave him a panicked look. “He didn’t accept
an offer from someone else, did he? Am I going to be out on the pavement next week?”
“No. The offer was made in your name. And don’t worry about the money. It’s being taken care of.”
She eyed him with suspicion. “Don’t worry about the money? What are you talking about? Where did the money come from? Is this
even legal?”
The dog cocked its head. “Do you really care? I swear the closing date will be two weeks from now.”
She stared. “And then the house will be mine? But how?”
“All yours. And do you honestly care how it happens as long as it does?”
“I . . .
should
care.”
“Suit yourself.” The dog paused, as though gathering its thoughts and wondering how best to express them. “The offer was legal.
It was just . . . expedited. I paid it. I have assets and I chose to invest in you. I trust you won’t take advantage.”
Mina stared at the dog, who stared right back, yellow eyes unblinking and utterly serious. No threats. Just a promise and
a lot more going on in that head than she’d guessed. Mina closed her eyes, then determinedly opened them again. “I’m going
to hate myself for asking this. What kind of assets does a puca have?”
A doggy grin. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“You won’t tell me?”
“I’m not that trusting, sweetie. So, do we have a deal?”
“You . . .” Deal? Did she make a deal? Her mind scrambled, sought some kind of foothold. Did she actually think, even for
a moment, that she had any sort of power in their relationship, such as it was? Guardian. Ha. She knew who held the cards.
And it certainly wasn’t the penniless, unemployed, soon-to-be-homeless, rejected and obviously undesirable schoolteacher.
“Correction. You’re not broke. Just very close to it, which doesn’t matter so much since you will be employed after tomorrow.
You can keep your home if you want it badly enough. And the rejected part? I think the ex did you a favor. He was a jerk unworthy
of your time, especially if he preferred somebody like Tiffy to you. You’re better off without him.
“And as for undesirable, hey, what about the attentions of a certain horny contractor—whatshisface, Teague? You know, the
one you’ve been entertaining fantasies about? Looks like a reciprocal situation to me. The man’s hot for you even if you’ve
been acting like a nutcase since you met him. Nothing like a little ego stroking to help you get over a breakup, eh?”
“Fantasies—!” He was spying on her while she slept? Or daydreamed? “Hey, you can’t do that!” So what if she’d passed the time
enjoyably while the puca had been out doing God knows what. She’d needed to keep her mind busy so she wouldn’t imagine the
worst, and frankly, it was downright pleasant to picture Teague in any number of positions, whispering naughty and wonderful
things to her. Riordan had no right to spy on them.
“And you call me sick. I was so embarrassed. Nearly lost my footing once or twice. Sorry about the mess in the school football
field, by the way.”
“What mess?”
“Hooves on turf . . . never a good combo. Anyway. So we were discussing a deal, but I didn’t mean to get ahead of myself.
My assistance with Tiffy and the job and the house was simply a demonstration. A good faith gesture, if you will. Your life
no longer sucks. Any chance you could help me make mine suck less? I could be one helluva grateful puca. And, as you can see,
grateful pucas make excellent friends.”
“Spell it out, Riordan.”
“Help me break the curse. Please. You won’t regret it.”