Gone With the Witch (12 page)

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Authors: Annette Blair

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #General

BOOK: Gone With the Witch
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The clown nodded and donned his hat, trying to be all
business, except that his grin got the better of him.
"Sounded like a
great
party."

Her giggle caught him off guard and made him blush.
She cleared her throat. "Will we be able to pull out of here without a problem?"

"Well," Winkie said, removing his hat again and turning
it in his hand. "Some people will boo, of course, but a few will probably cheer."

"Not that kind of problem. Is the road clear ahead of us?
All our shades are still down, and 'I can't see what we're facing."

"I'll make sure to clear your way when it's time. Can
you be ready to roll in half an hour? I'll bring a few friends
to help."

"Not if I don't find my cat. I can't go without Warlock.”


Find me when you're ready to go then. I'm easy to
spot"

No foolin'.
"Thank you," she said, rethinking her own blue hair.

He tipped his striped blue top hat and honked his bicy
cle horn several approving times. "No, I thank you,"
Winkie said. "I haven't started my day with this big a smile
in years."

Chapter sixteen

STORM felt the newly familiar heat wash up her face once
more as she shut the door.

"Who was it?" Aiden asked when she went back to the bedroom.

"Some clown says we have to leave." She unlocked his
cuffs. "Let's get moving. Warlock escaped out the door
when I opened it, and we have to go find him before we go"

Showers were an absolute necessity, but they needed to be quick, so they took turns.

After a futile search for Froot Loops, Storm showered and put on one of Aiden's cotton dress shirts, letting his shirttails hang over a pair of his navy boxers, hoping they
looked more like her shorts than his underpants. Worse,
she had no choice but to wear her wedding spikes with the outfit.

Winkie would take one look and think
Trixie
all over again.

When she emerged from the bedroom, she found Aiden waiting on the sofa with all the shades up, except for one. "Why didn't you open the windshield curtain?" she asked.

"I keep it closed to keep the sun from fading the interior." He grinned. "There really was a clown at the door, wasn't there? You must have been some sort of tired last night to park in the middle of a carnival. You're lucky you didn't mow down a tent."

"For your information, smart-ass, I parked in an empty lot. The carnival must have rolled in during the night and sprouted up around us. Guess we were both so tired from the wedding—"

"
And the abduction—"

"That we slept through the whole thing."

"The clown wants us to move the coach, I take it?"

"No ... the reason he came to the door is ... well
.. .
we
were screaming and shouting some pretty outrageous satisfaction, which ... um ... scared the children and pissed off their parents." She opened the door. "Let's go find my
cat."

Aiden looked pretty cocky as he let her precede him out
the door. "I'll take whatever reprieve from the cuffs I can get."

The breeze beneath his big shirt caressed and
budded
her bare breasts, so Storm crossed her arms. "That wasn't the only reason I let you out," she said, leaning close. "I
didn't want the clown to think I was having all that good
sex by myself."

"I could go another round," Aiden said. "Yes?"

"Of course, yes. But we have to find Warlock first. I
don't want him getting hurt or adopted by a bunch of kids."

"Judging by the trapeze act that cat pulled with the
ceiling fan last night, I say we start with the Tilt-A-Whirl
or the center ring. Both have Warlock written all over
them."

"How about a funnel cake or fried dough for breakfast to keep up our stamina while we search?" she suggested.

"Name your poison. I prefer a co
rn
dog, myself."

Storm called Warlock as they made their way to the concession stands, but as the crowd grew thicker, finding her kitten seemed more and more impossible.

Storm's heart wasn't in her fried dough, so she dropped it in the trash after two sugary bites.

Aiden inhaled his corn dog before she turned around.
"Stop worrying," he said. "Where would one fearless cat
go in a place like this?"

"He might once have been fearless, but he met his
match this morning." She told him about the tiger incident,
which seemed to worry Aiden as much as it did her.

"Winkie," she called when she saw her good-morning clown. "Winkie, this is Aiden."

Winkie beeped his bicycle horn and tipped his hat. "Congratulations."

Aiden's spine went ramrod straight. "I'm
proud."

Storm ignored their not-so-subtle form of male bonding.
"We can't find my cat,
"
she said. "Is there someone here who can make an announcement?"

"Good idea," Aiden said, as Winkie led them toward the
nearest concession stand. "I've got another idea that might help."

An hour later, the hundred-dollar reward offer netted
eight contenders: five black cats with white boots, one with
a white-tipped tail, a stuffed skunk, and the co
rr
ect pure black Abyssinian. Warlock yowled and leapt into Storm's arms from two feet away.

Aiden handed the hundred-dollar bill to a very happy young lady. "Where did you find him?"

"It was the funniest thing," she said. "He was crawling on his belly in a cage toward a sleeping tiger. I lured him
through the bars with cotton candy. He's got a sweet tooth,
your cat"

Aiden thanked the girl and scratched Warlock behind
his ears. “A sweet tooth," he said as they walked away. "And balls of steel. Wait." Aiden stopped at a shooting game. "Let me win you a prize before we go?"

"You can shoot?"

"After military school?"

"Oh, yeah" Storm took Warlock. "Go for it. I want a big
prize."

He didn't miss a target and played until she had the pick
of the stuffed-animal litter. She chose a big stuffed purple dragon with wide eyes, a wink, and a grin.

"I can't believe you chose a dragon," Aiden said, putting
the gun down.

"I like dragons
. '
I told you that during our Midsummer celebration, remember?"

"Right, at the castle, when Jake wore the dragon costume."

"You got something against dragons?" she asked.

"I guess you could call it a phobia of sorts." He rubbed his hands together in the manner of a personal subject change. "Wanna go on the Ferris wheel?"

"Gee, Aiden. We have supplies to buy
an
d
a baby to find"

"I don't know, Snapdragon
. '
I thought you'd be more
fun." Aiden waved at Winkie, signaling that they were ready
to leave.

"I was a hell of a lot of fun this morning," she said climbing into the coach.

"I have to agree with that." Aiden opened the wind
shield curtain as half a dozen clowns worked to clear a path
for them through ... an elephant crossing?

Storm chuckled. "Horses, tigers, elephants ... and what they leave behind."

"I can't drive through that!"

"Why not?
It's only elephant poop. You want me to go
out and shovel it, throw some sand on it, maybe—”


Would you?" Aiden looked hopeful.

"Drive, Bozo."

"I am not a clown."

"Of course not.
If you were, I'd call you Winkie ... or Weenie."

"That hurts"

"Hey, you're the one who's too prissy to d
ri
ve through elephant poop"

"I'd climb that entire mountain of poop if you needed
me to rescue you, but don't ask me to spray it on my paint job and undercarriage."

"Nice sentiment, Mighty Mouse, but it doesn't change the circumstances. Drive."

Aiden shuddered, gunned the engine, and drove straight
through, splashing elephant poop on the gawkers, like a road puddle.

"I'm proud of you," Storm said, at about the same time Warlock screeched and bounced off the back of Aiden's head.

"We gotta do something about that cat!"

"Judging by your chewed slipper, we should shop for
cat food, a cat carrier, and kitty litter, in that order. I saw a mall last night. Turn left out of the parking
lot."

"First, we have to find a campground where I can wash the undercarriage, and whatever else needs depooping on this thing."

"I never pegged you for a neat freak. You can't be. You're
a ... a ... Scruffleupagus. Your hair is scruffy/spiky/wavy, your jeans are torn. You always need a shave"

He gave her a look.

"Aha," she said. "You're fashionably scruffy." She
pointed a finger.
"You,
sir, are obsessive."

"Give me a break. I'm an antiques restorer. I make my living being obsessive. And this is where 'I live, damn it!
Would you like living in a house with elephant poop
sprayed all over its beautiful Victorian exterior? How'd you
like to tell people your house is the color of lavender, sage,
eggplant ... and elephant poop?"

"Okay ... 'I see your point."

They were startled by plates falling from a cupboard
and shattering on the floor, shards flying everywhere. Warlock swung from the handle of the cabinet door.

"I've had it with catastrocat," Aiden snapped.

"Have you ever heard of melamine?" Storm asked.
"Cats can't break melamine."

"Plastic?"

"This is a camper, not a house."

"Effin' A. Enough," Aiden said, and took a
right
turn out
of the parking lot.

Storm sat forward to see if he knew of a campground nearby, but he pulled onto the interstate heading north. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"Back to
Salem."

chapter
Seventeen

FRUSTRATION
and anger filled Storm.

Passionate anger.

They were driving in the right lane, nobody behind
them for miles, with a roadside rest looming, so she con
centrated her fury on Aiden's hands, and he turned the
wheel and exited into the roadside rest.

"What the hell?" He pulled into bus parking and turned
off the ignition. "Care to explain what just happened
here?"

"It was a physical m
an
ifestation of rage," she said. "The
same kind of energy that let me stop the coach on the
wharf
. '
I guess you get better at harnessing telekinetic en
ergy the more you use it. 'I didn't even know how powerful
it could be until last night. Then again, no one ever makes me as mad, as passionately mad, as you do"

"You mean that you directed my hands to turn that wheel?"

"It's a psychic thing. We were in the right lane, and nobody was behind us."

"Do your sisters have that particular talent?"

"Not that we know of. They rarely get passionately angry."

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