Magic and Mayhem: Have Wand, Will Travel (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 11

  Glendora pointed the wand at Zaira.

  “For all the strife.

  You will forfeit a life.

  To pay the toll.

  Will cost one soul.

  This is for me,

  So mote it be.”

  Chris rolled toward Zaira, covering her. “I love you, Zaira.”

  The power hit him between his shoulder blades, and he bowed his back in pain and cried out. Then the strength drained from his arms, his legs, every part of him, and he slumped, his head resting against her shoulder. He wished he could draw one last breath so he could experience her cinnamon scent one last time.

  He was bathed in pain as his soul broke loose from his body. His vision narrowed, and he was suddenly rushing toward a tunnel that swallowed him.

  CHAPTER 14

  ZAIRA WAILED IN pain and grief as she held Chris’s limp body and rocked him. Tears burned her eyes and streaked down her cheeks. Though Cerbie had healed her head, it still pounded.

  She wiggled out from underneath Chris’s weight and turned him so she could see his face. His beautiful gray eyes were vacant, his features wooden now the last spark of life had been drained from them.

  She shook as though her body were wired to electricity, grief and rage building inside her. “You vicious, heartless, prick-teasing bitch.” She swept the men standing around her with a scathing look. “She’ll kill you all, and you’ll stand there and let her while you stare at her boobs.”

  Her rage died as quickly as it had spiked. She pressed her hands against Chris’s chest and poured her magic into him. He wasn’t healing himself. Without his soul, perhaps he couldn’t. Her shoulder ached as she knitted the broken bones there.

  “He’s gone. He has no soul.” Glendora circled the two of them.

  Her back felt like it might break while his bruised kidney healed. She felt every bump and bruise drained of their soreness because she experienced them all as they healed, but she didn’t feel him inside the shell of his body.

  “The wand swallowed it,” the bitchy witch taunted.

  Cerbie staggered to his feet and came to lean against her. “He’s gone.”

  She thought her heart might actually break.

  “What is going on here?” A female voice demanded.

  Zaira looked up and blinked her eyes to clear her tear-blurred vision. A slender witch of about thirty-five stood outside the circle of vampires and warlocks. Were those go-go boots she was wearing? White go-go boots. She hadn’t seen go-go boots in, oh, my Goddess, at least thirty years. Her hot pink dress had belled, wrist-length sleeves and was covered in black, white, and red circles. Zaira got a little dizzy just looking at it. A strip of fabric that matched the dress acted as a headband to hold back her thick blond hair. Large gold hooped earrings dangled from her ears.

  “Is that vampire dead?” She took several bold steps through the crowd who stood around watching.

  The witch’s eyes widened as she saw Glendora with the wand. She stretched out a hand and the instrument flew through the air and she caught it. “What have you done?”

  “I only sought to punish the vampire responsible for stealing the wand and the witch responsible for keeping it from the Council.”

  “Liar.” Zaira staggered to her feet. “You killed Chris. And you reveled in it. You enjoyed seeing him suffer.” She turned her attention to the witch. She had to be the Baba Yaga. There was too much fear on all the warlocks’ faces for her to be anyone else. “He died protecting me. It was me she wanted to kill. I didn’t trust her or the rest of them, and we came to give the wand to you for safekeeping.” She motioned toward the warlocks. “We tried to hide the wand away, but it kept coming back to us.”

  “Did it, now?” Baba Yaga tilted her head. She studied the wand through narrowed eyes.

  “Please. Can you help him?” Zaira pleaded. A sense of urgency gripped her, hard. Without his soul his body would start to… She didn’t want to think about what would happen.

  Baba Yaga frowned. “Perhaps.”

  Zaira’s anger rose again at the witch’s malevolence. She was the strongest witch in the world, why wouldn’t she help? Zaira balled her fists in frustration and fresh tears streamed down her face. “Adcock blackmailed Chris into stealing the wand. He held his uncle hostage until he did it.”

  Baba Yaga’s sharp blue gaze fastened on Adcock. “Harry, it appears you have been a bad boy.”

  “Harry Adcock,” crowed one of the Shifters, standing along the periphery of the parking lot. All the rest laughed and jeered.

  The Vampire flashed his fags at them, but remained where he was.

  Baba Yaga turned so suddenly Glendora gasped. “I told you to keep an eye on things. Not to go through the treasury.”

  “We didn’t.”

  Baba Yaga raised a brow and the wand. “I know where I left things, Glendora.” She looked around, scanning the group of warlocks. “Where is Seymour?”

  Silence met the inquiry.

  Zaira answered her. “He’s at a hotel outside of Transylvania College drumming up participation for the WaVeS celebration—among other things.”

  “Why is it this young witch seems to know more about my Council than the rest of you do?”

  “Seymour!” She said the warlock’s name and he suddenly appeared, his pants halfway up, his bony shoulders poking out of a wife-beater T-shirt.

  He hastily jerked his pants in place, zipped them, and brushed a hand over his disheveled hair. “Yes, Baba Yaga. What may I do for you?” He sounded a little out of breath.

  “I won’t ask what you’ve been doing. In return, you will tell me what they have on you to force your cooperation.” She pointed the wand at Glendora and the warlocks. Everyone dived for cover behind vehicles except Glendora. She raised her chin and glared at Seymour.

  “Uh. Uh.” Seymour stuttered.

  “I suggest you worry about what I may do instead of what she will,” Baba Yaga said.

  “They’ve been going through records and the storage facility for weeks. They’ve dragged out the most lethal of the weapons stored there. And the darkest of the spell books.”

  “She’s been experimenting. Her aura is clouded by black magic,” Zaira volunteered.

  “Thank you, I can see that myself,” Baba Yaga said. She studied Glendora, her eyes narrowed. “Have you been exploring, Seymour? I’ll know if you’re lying.”

  “No, Baba Yaga. I wanted no part of it.”

  “Good. You may go, Seymour.”

  The warlock didn’t waste a second disappearing.

  “It would seem while I’ve been vacationing, my rats have been playing, plotting, and planning.”

  Glendora’s arrogance finally started to crack. “That isn’t so. We were just curious.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat.” Baba Yaga wiggled her fingers and in a blink Marilyn Monroe/ Glendora Ghostly was suddenly a ginger-striped cat. The animal hissed and yowled jumping in the air and twisting about. “Since you’ve been catting around behind my back, digging into things you shouldn’t have, and leading my Council around by their peckers, you can spend some time as a feline. As can they. At least as a lowly feline, I can be certain none of you share any of the secrets you’ve learned from your foraging.”

  The whole group warlocks wandered out from behind the cars. Two were solid black and the others gray tabbies.

  They started to converge on Glendora as a pack. She hissed and struck out at them, backing away, then turned and ran. All six warlocks gave chase.

  The Baba Yaga strode to stand next to Zaira and pointed the wand at Chris’s lifeless body.

  “Cough it up, Dillion. Right now. We’ve had this conversation over and over. Wands do not swallow souls.” She tilted her head as though she were listening to a conversation. “Well, she certainly won’t keep you if you don’t put it back. Now, before it’s too late.”

  A warm, yellow stream of power flowed from the wand to settle over Chris’s body and sank below the surface. When he
didn’t wake, Zaira looked up at Baba Yaga.

  “It will take some time for his soul to reconnect to his body. It may be a few days, or possibly even a week, but it will happen.”

  Zaira’s tears rushed up again, her breath hitching as she tried to hold back her sobs. “If he doesn’t f-feed, he’ll die.”

  “His body will be in a state of hibernation. He won’t need blood.” She laid a perfectly manicured hand on Zaira’s shoulder. “He’ll wake up.”

  “Are you s-sure?”

  “No. But I’ve done all I can.”

  More tears blurred Zaira’s vision and ran down her cheeks, the anguish almost more than she could bear.

  The vampires piled into the limo.

  Baba Yaga waved her hand and the sound of the engine cranking and not starting went on and on. “You’re not getting away so easily. I promise you.”

  She turned her attention back to Zaira. “I’m sorry. I should have never taken a vacation. After so many years, I thought I could have a few weeks to myself. I was wrong. And you and your vampire have paid the price. When everything is back to normal, you and I will have a chat.”

  Zaira wasn’t sure she wanted that.

  “As for the wand… I’m afraid you’re stuck with it. You and your vampire will have to share custody.” The box appeared next to her, and she offered Zaira the wand.

  “I don’t want to touch it.”

  “It’s the intent behind the use of it.” She squatted to put the wand in the box. “You’re powerful enough to have killed her. Why didn’t you?”

  “I wished I had…until you turned her into a cat.” She wiped her face with her sleeve, swallowed, and began to pull herself together. “She’ll suffer more being trapped like that, powerless and hunted. Besides, once you let the monster out of the box, there’s no going back.”

  “No, there isn’t. I’ll be back to check up on you. But right now I have a car full of vampires to deal with, and help is on the way.” She nodded toward a large man coming toward her. Not a man, a Shifter. His aura was a beautiful gold, and he projected massive levels of power. The Shifters who had hung around followed him across the parking lot. The skunk Shifter beside him was the same one who’d helped them when they first arrived.

  “Simon tells me you’ve had a little trouble,” the large Shifter said when he reached Zaira. He knelt beside her and took in Chris’s prone, lifeless figure with one sweep. His broad shoulders looked wide enough to carry any burden, and his sapphire blue gaze held a steady strength. Wolf, she saw a wolf when she looked directly at him. He smelled wonderful, and was obviously the big wolf in charge around here.

  “I have a place for you to stay for as long as you need,” he said.

  Zaira nodded, sobbing while fresh tears poured down her face. She took a deep breath, gulped, and held out her hand. “Thank you. I’m Zaira.”

  “I’m Mac.” He shook her hand with careful pressure.

  “This is Chris.” She swallowed and tried to control the fresh wave of grief. “And this is Cerberus.” She drew Cerbie against her side.

  “The dog who guarded hell.” Mac raised a brown brow a little darker brown than his hair.

  “He’s distantly related.”

  Interested sparked in the Shifter’s eyes. “You don’t say.”

  Mac motioned to several shifters, and they rushed forward to lift Chris from the ground and put him on a stretcher. A large van pulled up beside them, and they loaded Chris into the back. Mac offered her a hand getting in.

  “I can’t wait for you to meet Zelda, my fiancée. I think the two of you will have a lot in common. You’re both healing witches with a little something extra.”

  Zaira looked up and eyed him a little warily. “How can you tell?”

  “After meeting Zelda, let’s say I have an eye for these things.” He gave Cerbie a boost into the van and jerked back as the box with the wand in it zipped past him into the vehicle to land on the seat beside her. He looked at Zaira.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “You, Zelda, and I will catch up later,” he promised and jumped behind the wheel. The skunk Shifter, Simon, climbed into the passenger seat.

  Shouts of pain penetrated the closed vehicle, and she looked out to see what was happening to the vampires. They were dancing around, yelping every time their feet touched the ground, and their arms flapped like crow’s wings.

  “What are they doing?” she asked.

  “Looks like dancing on hot coals. Carol can be creative with her ideas of punishment and justice.”

  “Good,” she said, well satisfied. “I hope she keeps them at it a good, long time.”

  Mac laughed. “Welcome to Assjacket, West Virginia, Zaira.”

  CHAPTER 15

  A BUZZING IN his ears jerked Chris out of a deep sleep. It was a bit like having someone who snored loudly sleeping the same room.

  He opened his eyes to see light streaming into a window, bathing Zaira in a golden glow that set her red hair to gleaming with copper highlights. She wore a knee-length sleep shirt, and her hair, which was usually in a braid down her back, hung around her shoulders and down her back in waves to her waist.

  Her expression was sad and her arms were wrapped around her legs, her chin resting on her knees with contemplative air. Her skin looked like silk, milk-white and flawless, her brows a slash of color over her hazel eyes.

  The room they were in was a large and open. All the windows were shuttered but the one where she stood, keeping the light to a minimum.

  The sound intruded again, drawing his attention away from her. It wasn’t coming from her. He glanced to his left and saw the box they’d been carting around for weeks. The wand was sleeping. Wands slept? What was up with that?

  “Zaira.” His voice sounded raspy, like he hadn’t used it in a long time.

  She whirled around, her eyes going wide. “Chris!”

  Her bare feet slapped the floor as she rushed to the large bed and leapt up on it. She cupped his face, smoothed his hair, undeniable joy in her expression as she pressed soft kisses all over his face.

  “Thank the Goddess, you’re finally awake.”

  She held him close, and he nuzzled his face against her breast, enjoying the womanly feel of her. The rest of his body was waking up with a vengeance.

  She leaned back to look into his face. “That is not a banana in your pocket. You have no pockets in those sleep pants.”

  “No. No banana.”

  “You’ve been in a coma for a week. How can you even think about using your banana the moment your eyes open?”

  “Well, my banana is as fully awake as the rest of me…and besides, it just happens.” He pulled her in close and kissed her, then suddenly what she’d said hit him. “What do you mean I’ve been in a coma for a week?”

  “You have been. What is the last thing you remember?”

  He thought about it. “I pulled over because Cerbie got carsick. Where is he?”

  “He’s playing with some of the Shifter children.”

  “Playing?”

  “Yes, if you can even imagine that.”

  He couldn’t. “Let’s hope he doesn’t teach them any swear words or how to pee on people’s best clothes. What else have I missed?”

  She filled him in on everything that had happened from the time they entered Assjacket, West Virginia.

  It took several minutes for him to process everything she told him.

  “You saved me, Chris. Sacrificed yourself to save my life.” Her eyes turned glassy with unshed tears, and she sniffled and cleared her throat. “Do-don’t you ever do that again,” she sobbed.

  He smoothed back a long strand of auburn hair from her cheek. “I love you, Zaira. I could never stand by and see you hurt.” Nearly dying made it easy to say the words. He kissed her.

  She curled in close against him. Her hazel eyes held the shadow of everything they’d experienced, and he couldn’t remember.

  “I love you, too. This past week, wa
iting for you to wake up has been…” She shook her head, but he could feel the tension in her as she struggled to suppress her emotions.

  His heart was beating fast at her declaration, and he kissed her again. “I’m back now, and I’m not going anywhere.” He breathed in her cinnamon and magic fragrance. And held her until he felt her relax.

  “I should call down to the house and tell them you’re awake.”

  “Where are we?”

  “We’re in a tree house in Mac’s backyard. He and Zelda are over at the big house.”

  “It sounds like everyone is occupied.” He turned to raise himself up on an elbow and looked down at her. “I love you. You love me. We’re both in one piece. I think that calls for a celebration of some sort.”

  She cupped his face in her hands and kissed him until his banana was hard again. “You’re alive for us to love each other. That calls for an even bigger one.”

  He held up a finger. “There’s just one thing I have to do first.”

  “What’s that?”

  He slid out of bed and grabbed the box on the nightstand. He went to the open window and tossed the wand out. It hovered outside in midair. “You owe me big time. You sucked my soul out. Just because I don’t remember it, doesn’t mean I’m not pissed about it. Go nap somewhere else for a while.” He closed the window and rushed back the bed. “He was awake and listening to everything we said. I’ll be damned if he was going to listen to us make love.”

  Zaira laughed. “He’ll be back. I’m afraid we’re stuck with him. He’s sort of imprinted on us.”

  “Forget about the wand.” Chris took her back into his arms. “Think banana, Zaira.”

  She laughed. “No more wands, only your banana. And I’m making a wish I know will come true.”

  The End

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